Missing Puzzle Piece
by AiriKatsu
Summary: An Economic Crisis is threatening to turn the world upside down, but a suggestion from Italy may be the answer to their problems. Get married. If only Russia's boss would just leave him alone and let him marry the person he wants... Russia/China. Romance.
1. So I Let My Walls Come Down

Title: Missing Puzzle Piece

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN OR PROFIT FROM HETALIA, THIS IS PURELY FANMADE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. ANY REFERENCES TO LYRICS ARE MADE WITH RECAPITULATION IN MIND.

Genre: Romance/Drama/ Humor

Pairing: Russia/China (Ivan/Yao)

Rating: M

_**"We can dance until we die, you and I, we'll be young forever."**_

_A/N: I purse my lips at the completion of this one particular work of fiction because, and I am aghast, I have driven my characters out of __**character**__. I personally hate this, and maybe China is not so OOC because we do see him as a whiny character sometimes, but Russia? Not so much. I wanted to portray him as being quasi-healed, trying to figure out his personality after getting over having anti-social tendencies (Psychopath, sorry, nursing term). He just ended up being very… um… Normal /cringes/. My last RoChu was very popular, and it gave me a lot of confidence as a writer, this one… ah… Just read…_

xXx

CHINA

xXx

Yao is fully conscious, but he stubbornly keeps his eyes tightly shut.

He lifts his arm to place it over his eyes, cursing the bright sun in mandarin. He simply does not want to get out of bed and face this next twenty-four hours. No, he didn't stay up late, nor is he sick. It is simply because, before China even opens his eyes, he knows he is going to have a horrible day.

His muddled mind can come up with at least two reasons why he shouldn't go to work today. Although any person more awake than China could easily rebuttal his argument, he stubbornly rolls over and continues to despise the idea of getting up. The first reason is because he will have to sit in a cramped office, filled to the brim with things he needs to do but would rather not. The second, being because he doesn't have a warm body to wake up to anymore.

He yearns for the old days. When everything was done with a signature on a couple papers and the rest of the day involved something meaningful; now he has to do everything himself with paper AND a password-encrypted computer. Those years he could simply take a day off and his office wouldn't become a monstrous pile of work that would take two days make-up time to complete. When he could have Ivan show up at one in the morning to wake him up, sleep in till noon, and then take the Russian to work with him only not to do any work at all.

NOW he has to walk into the building, use the hand-print sensor, the iris-detector, his pass-card, and then sign onto his computer using a series of passwords. After all of that he would sit at the desk for four hours until noon, get up to grab lunch, then glue himself to the seat for another limitless amount of time. His boss and co-workers would blanch at the thought of him bringing someone with him through all of that. What if Ivan memorized the words he types into the computer, especially since the only thing he pays attention to is 'how Yao looks so beautiful when he works'? What if he covered the cameras and assassinated the Chinese man, when the only thing he'd cover the cameras for would be to do something that involved a lack of clothing? What if he learned something he could blackmail the country with? Oh yes, signing overdue checks, sifting through invoices and statements, and writing up reports about how EVERYONE'S ECONOMY HAS PLUMMETED is _really_ top-secret.

Once again, he stubbornly concludes is going to hate today. He also hates how childish he feels because of it.

Augh, and he has another world meeting to go to tomorrow…

While he plays this immature game, he blames Ivan as well. The train of thoughts causes him to come up with at least a million reasons why his days now are menial and pointless. If Russia didn't show up at his house all the time un-announced to surprise him like he did before, he wouldn't feel so disappointed to come home and find his house as empty every night. The blonde had always came over and stayed over. So now when he did show up and had to leave right after, the raven-haired nation actually missed untangling himself from those warm limbs. Then when he somehow escaped long enough to get to work, he would show up around lunchtime so they could eat together. Now China finally realizes how spoilt the stupid, dumb, tall, lover has made him. If absence made the heart grow fonder, he was going to jump on a plane and fight through seventeen guards just to get a kiss.

You know what else makes him hate today? As he opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling he realizes there is warm, golden light pooling in from the blinds; it is _sunny_. When it is bright and nice out it makes him remember all the times when Ivan would pull him closer as he tried to get up and murmur in his tired-thick accent 'it's nice out, office is for rainy days'.

He wants this economic crisis to end. Not because it has put far too much stress on all his people, because he _misses_ being the center of Russia's world. So it makes him detest today EVEN MORE, because days like today show him just how self-centered he is because he, dare he say it, fell in love. They make him wonder why he has let himself become so enamored with someone whose antics would probably be considered creepy to any other being on the planet. The violet-eyed nation has wormed his way into his heart so completely that he can't even get mad at him anymore for BEING possessive and stalker-ish. In fact, at this point he is craving it.

He gets up, throws the covers back and winces when his bare feet make contact with the cold floor. He pads over to the phone and stares down at the blinking number hopefully. Seven new calls, all of them are from Korea. With a growl he mashes the 'delete' button, grabs a robe, and throws open the door to head down to the bathroom. The cold, way too-big-for-one-person bathroom, that has way too many fond memories for someone who is so miserable.

And as he washes and brushes his teeth he has an epiphany. He sees the little hanging calendar and feels as though he wants to throw something. There it is, staring back at him like a proverbial slap in the face. The one golden reason why he hates this day; the one reason why he is walking around bitching like a pubescent girl on PMS. He has not been laid in _**two months and seven days**_. Apparently long enough to turn him into the whining mess he currently was.

XxX

It was late 2008, which probably would be enough said to explain the situation.

The top countries of the world had all piled into a grand room to discuss the current economical crisis that had taken the very foundation from under their feet and brutally ripped it away. Although the depression had begun in the United States, it was just the right amount of weight to send the whole rest of the world precariously perched on the scales to topple over. Country after nation all threw up their hands and admitted to the problem, and each with their own set of curses and pointing fingers to go along with it. Millions of their children had lost jobs, and just as many now lived in constant fear that they would be next. It had been going on for a year now, and even though they had all addressed the situation as a threat, that was where the progress ended.

The problem with the meeting among nations was that there was really no _point_. The only thing they had all concluded was that _they _were the ones who needed the most help and everyone else's issues weren't as bad as theirs. Meeting after meeting they would all single-file into a room only for it to end in tears, broken chairs, loud yelling, and even a few nations stomping out. It was nearly impossible for anyone to get any work done that may benefit the rest of them, and even Germany had sat down with his head in his hands and just let Arthur and Alfred fight over whose life sucked more because they had no money.

Yao had long since pulled his hair out of his ponytail and was idly running his hands through the strands as he stared down at the documents before him. It was something he did when he was trying to concentrate on his work, and in this distracting room he wouldn't get anything done. He felt a growl begin to form in his throat at the suggestions on the paper. No way in hell, he was not stepping up tourist attractions, nor was he even going to think about cancelling the moon festival because it took up too much money. It was one of the most important celebrations they had every year. Who, out of all his people, could even consider giving up a huge part of their culture like this?

He looked up, just to make sure he wasn't missing anything important. His eyes landed on Russia, who had his reading glasses perched precariously on his nose; staring down at something with such boredom it almost made _him_ feel bad. Damn it, he just had to get there as late as he had, at least if he was sitting beside Ivan then they could talk about this stupidity. He hadn't even noticed his hair was down.

It was so wrong.

They all had these things that were wrong with their countries and their economy and no one could do anything about it. They would all sit there and complain about it. Each of them single-handedly trying to crawl out of the quicksand alone.

Even _Germany_ had given in; this was what made everyone realize just how bad the situation was.

He sighed and went back to his paper, not finding the urge to yell at the two to break it up just yet. He didn't have the energy to butt into their petty little argument, knowing that if he jumped into the fray so would everyone else. Then they'd have an all out brawl like the last time, when he had just barely escaped having a chair thrown into the back of his head. Ivan had deflected it before he even knew he should duck. He had been too busy grabbing Korea by the scruff of his neck and stopping him from tackling someone.

"Excuse me!" Italy called, probably wondering if anyone would care if he slipped out. One look around would give him the proof that he could. Yao regarded him curiously, only having caught the announcement because he was looking up and had watched him stand. More than half of them had pulled out other work to do anyways. No one was going to stand up, take control, and dismiss them until at least four o'clock. He wondered if the little brunette was actually going to take charge.

"Pardon me!" He called a bit louder, but the mayhem caused between Arthur and Alfred, and everyone else's nonchalance was not helping. Finally he looked around, grabbed a really big book Hungary had beside her and slammed it against the table.

The room went silent, everyone's stopped mid-whatever and upturned their eyes to stare at him. The sudden attention was unnerving, and he looked like he immediately regretted this. He wet his lips and swallowed dryly, trying to think of what it was he wanted to say. He tried stuttering out some sort of a noise, but it came out a mess that he wasn't even sure HE understood. He took a deep breath, turned his eyes to Germany, and then tried again.

"E-everyone!" His voice cracked a bit, but it got stronger as he kept going, "I think we… don't have much else to discuss at this time. I propose a… um… rescheduling. Maybe next month sometime, in Italy. I'm sure we all have business to attend to so… I will have a presentation next time…" He was running out of diplomatic words, and everyone was still giving him such strange looks so he needed to wrap this up. Yao's eyebrows had furrowed together, trying to decipher where this was going.

"U-uh… N-next month… The fourteenth! We will all meet in Sicily at the usual place when I- we will host a meeting. T-ten o'clock… Sicily time so, uh, calculate that out for the rest of you. I'll have something planned by then! I swear!" He stood there, with no one moving. He felt a drip of sweat run down the side of his face, and he cleared his throat loudly. "Meeting adjourned!"

This, apparently, people understood. Everyone all chattered at once as they stood up and busied their ways out of the room. Yao gratefully stood up and gathered all of his papers he had spread out across the little space he had. He looked up at where the Russian had disappeared to, but quickly understood when he saw Belarus looking around in the place where he had been sitting. He frowned and concurred that he probably wished to do the same if he didn't want-

"Hyeongnim!" A split second after, he had two robed hands wrapped around his chest and a face burying into his back. He tensed and counted to ten, trying to find the patience to deal with his sibling without killing him. There went his hoped of catching up to the violet-eyed nation. "You never answered my calls! I miss you! Can I own your-"

He pried the arms away from him and spun around before the younger nation could latch onto him, he held up his hands to stop the next onslaught. "I've been busy, and as much as I'd love to catch up I have somewhere to be…"

His eyes caught sight of another Asian which caused him to trail off his train of thought. He shook his head and tried to look away, but just as he was prying his eyes off the source of his discomfort, the cold, lifeless almond eyes made contact with his. In an instant Yao's heart have a painful squeeze, and chills wracked his spine. He straightened to appear much more confident than he felt, and watched as the island nation changed his direction and began to walk over. He wasn't even listening to what Korea was saying now; instead he felt the crippling fear start to seep into his lungs. The near paralysis causing his breaths to come out in short gasps.

Oh hell no. Japan was coming over.

He spun around, his hands shaking in an inevitable panic attack rising, and hauled his briefcase off the counter before exiting in the opposite direction. He couldn't breathe; he needed to get out of there. He began to weave in and out of the remaining bodies, nearly shoving them out of the way in the process. He couldn't deal with Japan, he just couldn't. He felt the disorienting panic take a firm grip on his chest, and now each inhale caused him a sharp stab of pain. He ran out into one of the adjoining exits and then ignored how long and dark the trek into fresh air seemed. When he finally emerged at the end of the hallway he burst through the double doors, spinning around to make sure he hadn't been followed.

"Calm down…" His eyes began to prickle as he collapsed against the side of the building. He leaned over to catch his breath, hand clutching the tightening of his ribcage.

The sound of footsteps alerted him that he wasn't alone, and he straightened out. His head whipped in the direction of the noise, and it took him a moment to realize the person was not dangerous at all. He exhaled shakily, waiting until the violet-eyed man came closer before he pushed himself off the wall and fell into the chest of the taller nation. His fingers were too weak and in tremors to actually grab onto the fabric, so when two large arms wrapped around his back he felt his whole weight fall onto Ivan.

"Yao…?"

"Japan…"

It was the only explanation he needed to offer.

xXx

It was a month later, with all the nations sitting patiently around the circular table staring at each other uncomfortably. Someone was waiting with bated breath for either a fight to start or their host to appear. Some people exchanged careful whispers to their neighbors, but other than that no one raised their voice above a murmur. It was hot in the room, even with the air conditioning blasting out cool air, and people had long since lost most of their jackets and some even down to their undershirts.

"Ahhh!" The sound of footfalls running down the hall towards them alerted everyone that Northern Italy was arriving. How sad it was that the country who was hosting the meeting was late. Mere seconds later he burst through the doors, his hand full of weird computer-cable wires, and Italy skidded to a halt in the front of the room. "I'm sorry I'm late; technical-difficulties!" He then noticed the cables were still in his hand and hid them behind his back with a weak smile.

"H-hello!" He waved at them all, walking forward and stopping once he reached where his seat was at the table. He looked far too nervous, and China couldn't help but feel slightly bad for the country.

"So we are all here because we have all come to a standstill in our economies…" He took a step back and tried not to make eye contact, instead looking to the far back and staring above someone's head. "So, I was going to give you guys a whole bunch of successful examples of partnerships and such but, uh, my projector broke. So I will just give you the footnote version.

Over the years we have all had the pleasure of working together, perhaps not in happy circumstances, but the fact still remains that we have all benefited from working as a team. I know that my plan has flaws, but I already know them all so… Anyways… Working by yourself is impossible, but everyone working all at once is impossible too. I don't want anyone to feel like I am suggesting military alliance or anything… I just think that it would be smart if we all worked one-on-one for a while."

China's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline when he placed the detached sentences together, was this man proposing what he thought he was? He chanced a glance around the room and stared around at all the dropped jaws, and was surprised to find a new nodding smiles.

"I propose we all pair off. I know this sounds extremely unreliable, but if you think about it the benefits would be much better than working by ourselves. I can understand that some of you may be a little apprehensive about giving out information about your countries to another, but this is where the courting process occurs."

He felt himself grow more animated as he explained it further, even adding in a few hand gestures that he sometimes couldn't keep at bay. It was the Italian in him. They talked with their hands. "We are all given four months to find another country, someone who you know you can work with, and then we all try to sit down with our partners and bounce ideas and concepts off of each other. Then a year from now we can all come together and discuss what we and our partner have discovered. If we have already implemented the idea in our countries then we will have two sets of people to gather data from. As for top secret government activity… I guess you have to trust your partner. I can't guarantee that something won't mess things up, but if we all just put these things aside and really worked as a team then I'm sure at least some of us will really get something out of this. Think of it kind of like a marriage."

He stopped here to take a deep breath, and everyone else took this as an opportunity to talk. Chatter erupted instantaneously, and Italy was completely drowned out. "Well, uh, I'll just give you guys a minute…" He backed down, and looked at the floor to collect himself.

"So wait!" Yelled out Austria, rising to his feet to be the first to address Feliciano directly after his proposition. "You are suggesting that we form a political alliance with another country, so that we can work on this as a 'team'." The way he said it even made _Germany_ wince. "But also we should get married?"

"Oh, no!" He tried to backtrack, "I mean there_ should _be official documents signed or something… Like a contract! No one has to really think of this like a_ marriage_… Well you _should_ think of the partnership like one because it has the same basic principals… But no one has to go throw a party and fancy clothes on to do it in front of an alter… Unless they really want to which is completely acceptable…? I think." He gave a definitive nod, and then clasped his hands in front of himself.

Many nations began talking at once, a few voices even growing angered. Yao wasn't too sure how this was going to affect them in the long run, but he had to admit; he had been one of the countries Italy had mentioned. He had banked on the help of nations quite a few times in his existence, and long ago when he was younger he may have been embarrassed, but at least now everyone was in the same boat. He felt the idea warming up, but waited to see what the general consensus was. It wasn't until someone slammed their hands down on the table, that everyone abruptly froze and paid attention.

"_Pour moi_? I think this is a brilliant idea! He is speaking the _truth_! A marriage works exactly as he says. Both parties offer, both parties take. Work must be put forth on both sides for a true partnership to succeed and this is exactly as he says." He stared around at all the people who were yelling at Italy, as if daring them to contradict him. "We have all been throwing insults around all year; I think this is a refreshing idea. Why not try it and if it doesn't work then we go back to the drawing board?" Francis gave a reassuring smile to his little brother, walking around the table to put his arm around the little Italian. The Frenchman stood tall and proud beside Feliciano, as if to signify his commitment to the idea.

"Agreed." China quickly chimed in, standing up as well and nodded to the two lone countries. This, apparently, startled everyone else because they were staring at him incredulously. Was it so hard to believe that he actually agreed with something? "It's better than anything else we've suggested. Think of it as a trial run, then. If things sour we split up and start over." _Do not look at Russia. Do not look at Russia_.

Everyone stared.

China rolled his eyes and threw up his hands, "I'm putting aside my pride here, and you all can too."

"I third!" Canada gingerly put up his hand, and half the people in the room wondered what the random guy was doing there.

"I think this is asinine!" Switzerland stood up and bellowed at the top of his lungs. He took in a breath to go further but England cut him off.

"Oh shut the bloody hell up, you'd disagree with anything that involved being even _remotely_ social!"

But before chaos could begin, Italy jumped up and down. He threw his arms out and waved wildly to get everyone's attention. "WAIT! WAIT! Don't fight! How about we vote? Everyone for getting married- er… A political alliance- raise your hand!"

China had to admit, the vote was an odd phenomenon. After Italy restarted counting four times, it was declared that there were a few more people in favor of this idea than not.

And so courtship began.

xXx

RUSSIA

xXx

It wasn't Russia's fault that he had been daydreaming and not paying attention, in fact, it was all Italy's.

The previous night, like those before it, had been spent entertaining the thought of marching down into Chinese borders and asking his lover if he would form this 'political alliance' with Russia. Ever since that fateful conference a month ago, when Italy had proposed they all form ties with one other country to ensure their economic future, countries had been tying the knot left right and center. He had suggested for them to think of it like a marriage between nations, sharing their thoughts on the global economy with their partner and working through the depression together, and that was exactly how they had all taken it. Letter after letter fluttered into his mailbox, informing him of certain 'relations' and even invitations to actual wedding ceremonies. Russia had known the little brunette had other motives in mind when he suggested it; after all, who _hadn't_ seen the obvious attraction between the Italian and German representatives? Still, he couldn't help but consider it a benefit to him as well…

To _finally_ be able to marry China, a dream he had long since given up on even in the face of their long-standing relationship. It still took all his willpower to not smile at the thought. They had been together for a few decades now, the slow courting process dating back to around the middle-end of the Second World War. Things had just settled in these past few years, and even though they didn't broadcast it publically, it had been admitted to the few countries they were close to. Neither of their respective superiors enjoyed the idea, but they had made it cheerfully clear that their opinions didn't matter.

It was then that Ivan realized his boss was speaking and he hadn't caught a word, so he decided it would be best to chalk his lack of attention up to sleepiness and gave the older-looking man a tired -but attentive- look.

"I'm sorry; I did not hear that correctly."

Without a word, the man on the other side of the desk slid a piece of paper over to him. He bent slightly and picked it up, staring down at the page and letting his mind fall into well-placed confusion. Ivan simply stood there in front of his boss' desk and stared down at the piece of paper with small cursive writing on it- his boss' writing. He was too busy reading the names on the page and frowning instead of listening to the man before him once again. One name at the top of the list jumped out immediately and caught his attention. The name of the man he sometimes wanted to strangle on a _good day_. Why in the world would that man's name be on a list of names his superior was handing to him?

Could it be that he was being ordered to beat the crap out of him? Oh how he ached to give him a nice black eye so he would shut up for once! Wait, why was _Canada_ on there as well? Why would he be on the list of nations he was supposed to destroy? They were brothers, sure, but he could only bet that the Canadian not so secretly wanted his neighbor to leave him the hell alone. Perhaps he could propose a deal with the other northern country-?

"-To each of their houses, and do so."

He blinked himself out of his stupor, and finally made eye contact with his boss. His eyebrows furrowing as he tried to decipher the last words spoken. He had asked him to repeat the instructions once before, but that was because he was too busy being distracted bout that lovely daydream. A goofy grin spread across his mouth when he started thinking about it again. Russia had been waiting to finish his work so he could run down to China and properly ask. His supervisors had been keeping him busy since then, but it was only a matter of time before he was able to sneak away and-

"Russia! Are you listening to me? If I have to repeat myself one more time you won't even get a choice! And wipe that ridiculous grin off your face, this is no joke."

"Yes, sir. I will focus. However, why are you handing me this list?"

His boss' eye twitched and he started convulsing in rage. He thought the sight to be almost amusing, but then he realized it probably wasn't a good idea to piss off the man because he'd need a few days off soon to go propose to Yao. Instead he offered a calm smile and gestured for the official to continue his orders. He would focus, he really would, and he needed to get whatever this was over with so he could ask his own favor.

"You." The older-looking gentleman thrust his index finger at Ivan, almost poking him in the chest. This made Ivan reel back. "Will go." He threw the arm out and gestured towards the door. "And offer a diplomatic marriage to ALL the nations on that list. You have a _choice_ as to who you would like to ask _first_, but if they decline then you move on to the next nation on the page."

Now he was certain he hadn't heard him right. He would have started to laugh it off if the person on the other side of the desk didn't look like he was about to strangle someone. This must be some mistake; China's name wasn't even _on_ that list! He grabbed the sheet and stared down it, light orchid eyes skimming the contents of the sheet. He could already deduce that half of these nations would safely decline; as they had lovers they would certainly be marrying, and the other half he would rather die than step one foot into their country. Never mind showing up on their doorstep and offering something he _didn't even want to offer_.

"No." He said simply, and let the page fall to the desk. He shook his head to reiterate his decision. China was a perfectly respectable country to marry, and they had gotten on perfectly in the past when it came to diplomatic relations. The nation was rich in culture, imports, population, and they had great food! What was wrong with them having a relationship with the Asian? They were geologically close, they got along, and most importantly HE WANTED TO MARRY YAO.

The face of his boss fell into an unimpressed expression, but he diverted his eyes to put his hand on the phone to stare determinedly at it. "If you do not do as we ask I will phone Belarus and assure her you will be happy to meet and talk about the prospects of marriage. I am sorry Ivan; I have no choice. We must try and secure the best possible nations to form this relation with."

He couldn't even glace back at the horrified look on the nation's face at the mention of his little sister's name. He began to shake, even he wasn't sure if it was out of terror or pure fury. Not only was he being blackmailed into trying to form partnerships with countries he could care less about or marry his sister, but also potentially cheat? They wouldn't follow through with this! It was a bluff; it had to be!

"You lie!" He snarled, slamming his hands on the desk and leaning over it menacingly. He had always kind of admired this man, but now he wanted nothing more than to cause severe physical harm to him. He felt his old self bubbling and trying to surface, his tongue suddenly tinged with the taste of bloodlust. He began to feel the same intense fear that his rage was no longer in check and he may commit another black-out murder, but that was quickly squelched with thoughts of self-justice. He would not mind delving back down into his dark past for this, China would be angry but he'd understand in the end.

The fear of becoming a monster again, he'd face it if it meant he wouldn't do this to China. Didn't this man understand what he was asking, was this not considered adultery? He knew damn well who Russia had intended to ask. His head began to pound with the pressing existence of his other self, and he had been doing so well since he started becoming romantically involved. He hadn't snapped once since, and although he'd had his moments of terror when he realized he could, but he'd been clean for quite some time. The idea of that safe-haven, of all his hard work and emotional investment, to be taken away from him for the sake of money made his stomach churn.

He was not being a horrible nation, either; China was a very powerful country. It wasn't like it was across a sea and hard to communicate with. They had long-standing trust between the two people and to hell if Yao wasn't more serious about money than he was.

Yet his boss still sensed his disagreement and picked up the phone and began dialing.

Russia watched each number being pressed in slow motion; sweat dripping down the side of his face when he realized the intentions were true. Each button in succession caused his heart to squeeze painfully at the thought of who would answer on the other side. He had to decide quickly, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a mere moment to think. Good Russia or Bad Russia? To Maim or to play along? He opened his eyes to stare as the last button was a mere inch from his supervisor's fingers, and he lunged to press the receiver down.

"FINE!" He bellowed, his voice falling to a growl. He towered over the man at the desk, normally light eyes turning into a deep violet. A promise that he could have done something horrible to this petty human for daring to pull this, but decided to spare him. "I will play your game, but not without adding one last rule. If I go and am refused by each person on this list I will be back. When I am you will be _happily_ signing the paper stating you would be _honored_ to offer marriage to China, and I will be on the next plane to Beijing. If you do not uphold this end then I will have my own ways of making you suffer in agony. You may be the leader of these people, but you are still human. Is that _clear, da_?"

For someone who had just come face to face with a glimpse of Ivan's nasty side, the Prime Minister of Russia just nodded coolly. He appeared as if the anger hadn't phased him in the slightest, sitting back in his chair and clasping his hands together on his desk. He gestured calmly to the door, beckoning the Russian to start his journey.

With that he stomped out of the office, becoming even more livid when he found out a plane had been waiting for him as soon as he got out of the meeting.

XXXXXX

A/N: This is probably a three or four chapter fic. It was actually finished quite some time ago, with the idea of doing something more with it. I was going to have another series of couple-shots like with my last set of fictions but I started the France/England one and decided it would be too redundant.

And, I know, I tend to make China hate Japan a lot. It's just this thing I have. I tend to re-use things…

Anyways… I hope you enjoy the first installment and continue to read on!


	2. We'll Be Young Forever

Title: Missing Puzzle Piece

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN OR PROFIT FROM HETALIA, THIS IS PURELY FANMADE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. ANY REFERENCES TO LYRICS ARE MADE WITH RECAPITULATION IN MIND.

Genre: Romance/Drama/ Humor

Pairing: Russia/China (Ivan/Yao)

Rating: M

AN:

XxX

America, Canada, France, Germany, Switzerland, Norway, Austria, and England.

The names stared stubbornly back up at him.

"Sir, the pilot would like to know where we are headed first." The lieutenant watched him with disinterest, probably assigned to this job knowing he would be doing nothing but watching the show as a spectator. He looked like he had much more interesting things to do than accompany his Countries personification as he made an ass out of himself. He didn't even look at Ivan as he spoke; instead his eyes were gazing off into the distance.

Ivan mourned his military future.

"France." He folded the piece of paper up into his coat pocket; feeling like his whole body became heavier with the weight of the dreaded list in his pocket.

He gazed out the window and examined his options. One sweep around the private plane assured him that he would be watched meticulously. There was no way he would be able to sneak off and threaten the other nations into declining his offer. He had no doubts that most of them would refuse, so he would save those for last. He would also like to see a friendly face before this whole ordeal started.

In all honestly, he wouldn't mind forming a better alliance with Francis, especially considering they had become quite close since the end of the wars. France had happily signed a bilateral treaty recognizing Russia as the successor of the Soviet Union. In fact, he would even go as far as saying Francis was his second closest friend aside from Yao. They often stopped and chatted after summits and meetings since Ivan had reigned in his violent side and was able to start living a peaceful existence.

France wouldn't mind the marriage, but Francis would immediately sense something was wrong. If he was lucky, the older blonde would kick his guards out and talk with him privately.

The plane landed a few hours later, and Ivan was escorted out of it and into an awaiting car. He was certain he could overpower the two men accompanying him if it came down to brute force. However, bullets hurt, and his boss probably had no problem ordering them to shoot him since he wouldn't die. He's just get knocked out for a week and then come back with a killer hang-over and find out something had happened in Russia where he had been shot.

He was suddenly aware of how serious his boss was about this.

All the more reason to get this all finished with as diplomatically as possible.

They arrived at Francis' house, a modest countryside home with a beautiful garden growing around the front walkway. Ivan knew the other blonde must have planted these; he had been talking about it off-handedly the last time they spoke. The Frenchman enjoyed gardening, and since he only allowed two maids to live in his home with him he did most of his housework himself.

Francis answered the door, hair swept away into a low ponytail so it wouldn't get into his face. He was wearing simple chef's apron, probably in the middle of cooking lunch. His confused look landed on Ivan, and with a few unspoken conversations he stepped aside and kindly allowed him in. He watched the Frenchman smooth out his facial features when his men stepped in after him. Years of having wordless interactions allowed nations a few spare moments to offer their true intentions before politics got in the way. He was grateful to see the other man hadn't lost his ability.

"Russia, a pleasure, had I known you were coming I would have dressed more appropriately."

Francis surprised the others by speaking fluent Russian. Ivan could only assume that the other blonde was banking on a language barrier when it came to the soldiers. As if on cue the other nation turned towards his men and asked them if they spoke French. Both shook their heads, and Francis waited until he wasn't facing them to smile.

"Such a shame, I suppose I will have to translate for Marie and Anabelle." He commented airily, and he motioned for them to follow.

He wiped his hands off on the apron and then entered the kitchen, where two older women were busy cleaning and preparing some form of stew. They both stopped and stared at Ivan and his men alarmed, but with one sentence from France they both smiled welcomingly. One had brown hair curled up into a bun, and the other had red hair. They were at least forty in human years, which surprised the bigger country. He had assumed them to be much younger, but perhaps this was a stereotype on his part. He couldn't deny he had half-expected the typical French maid.

"_Bonjour, Comment allez-vous?_" Asked the redheaded woman politely, bowing her head to acknowledge him.

He offered a reassuring smile, "_Ca va bien._"

He couldn't help but grin at the confused looks on his people's faces. This was exactly what he had hoped for. Either they were great actors, or they really had no idea what was going on. His smile stayed on his face as Francis took off the apron and led them to a sitting room; he then sat down on one of the plush chairs.

Ivan sat on the one right beside his, and the men simply stared at each other as if wondering what they should do. The blue-eyed nation pointed over at some unoccupied spaces across the room and asked if they would 'kindly have a seat and give them some privacy'. Knowing they were guests and could hardly refuse, they shuffled over to the other side of the grand area, sitting down in floral-printed pink chairs.

The room was gorgeous, with sunlight pooling in from a long, rectangular strip of sunroof on the ceiling, and the two grand windows on both sides of the room. It was almost split in half, with more private seating near the fire on one side, and then it dipped into a gathering area. The private side looked almost like a study, with well-worn books arranged in the bookshelf and the two comfortable plush chairs you just sunk into beside the fire. Quite a few strides took Ivan from one side of this lifted area to the other. Once you descended the steps into the other space it had couches arranged in a square and a beautifully crafted oak table carved out in the center. There were transparent white curtains closed over the windows that blew gently in the breeze coming in through the windows. Thicker, crimson drapes were pulled and tied to the side so the light could get into the room. In all, the men would have to have super-hearing to understand what they were saying on the other side of the room.

But they still spoke in French, just in case.

"So, your boss must have something to do with this." Francis started off casually, keeping his tone light. Ivan could sense the rolling of his eyes he would have done if the men weren't there. He watched his friend cross his legs and lean onto the side arm of the chair, and he relaxed a bit in response.

"When does he not?" He glanced around the room as if they were talking about the furniture instead of the topic at hand. "I was threatened to ask certain countries for their hand in marriage."

Thin, perfect, eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "You must be joking." He glanced over his shoulder and nodded to one of the girls, graciously thanking them for bringing them some tea without prompt. He offered a cup to Ivan, which he accepted so he could sneak the list from his pocket over to the other nation. When Francis carefully glanced at the paper, adding milk to the cup for Ivan, he saw his lips press into a line. He handed back the cup and nodded for the maid to be excused.

"I cannot believe you didn't run down the next day after the meeting and marry China."

They both sipped their cups, neither focusing on the calming fragrance or taste. Instead they were more interested to hear the military personal on the other side of the room mutter to each other that they were pretty sure they weren't speaking Russian. And damn, their boss was going to kill them if he found out they screwed up because they couldn't understand. One guard commented on the fact that if they spoke English he'd be able to get it just fine, the other admitted to knowing some German.

Great, there went Canada, England, America, and Germany on his list of nations he could threaten in another language.

Francis gave him a sympathetic look.

"My boss has been keeping me busy. At first I didn't notice, but now I realize all the extra work kept me from leaving. He even brought my sister into this." Francis knew what those implications meant, and nearly choked on his tea. He grabbed a napkin and coughed into it before giving Ivan a disbelieving look. Ivan just shook his head and shrugged as if to say 'yes, he sunk that low'.

"Unbelievable," Francis comforted him slightly. "So what you are saying is that you have come to me for two things. One being advice, and the other my declining to your offer?"

"I'm glad you understand, da."

If there was one thing France understood it was l'_amour_, and even more so when something kept you away from the one you loved. Russia found himself trusting France, more than he trusted all the other nations. After the past he'd had, learning friendship had been the most awkward, but Francis had been willing to give him a couple extra shots at it. Ivan never did figure out if this was in his nature, or if the blue-eyed nation had needed a friend too.

Said nation nodded calmly and checked what the other two inhabitants were doing out of the corner of his eyes. They were unabashedly leaning forward, both squinting as if that would help them hear well. Ivan watched the calculations pass by those normally cheerful orbs, before they locked onto his and he leant forward.

"You understand, Ivan, I must refuse. I'm afraid I don't have such feelings for you." The Frenchman rewarded the spies by speaking their native tongue, and they both had to stop themselves from sniggering when one nudged the other and went 'hey! That was Russian!' before they shifted their chairs a few inches further.

"You wound me." He played along, "I would have minded you the _least_."

They switched back to French, "Well Mathieu would be a handsome match if you want my honest opinion. As for how to get them all to refuse you? Simple. Alfred will most certainly say no even if you ask him outright, so will Roderich, and Switzerland. You will not need any planning there, however Germany may be influenced by his government like you are. Mathieu has suitors piled outside his door as we speak, and Norway? He may feel obliged to say yes to you."

Ivan counted one missing, but from the way Francis' lips were curling upwards he figured out who.

"Already?" He felt a bit of envy surge up, and it showed. He sunk into the cushion behind him, a wave of fatigue and worry washing over him. If _they_ had managed to do it so quickly, what would happen to China? He probably had Korea living on his doorstep! Well, on the bright side, at least that crossed England off his list. He almost had the urge to pull out the paper and do so, but he refrained. Instead he asked how it happened. How had the two of them managed to get engaged without anyone finding out- and how soon!

"It all occurred one event after the other; I suppose it was proper timing on my part." The way he said it made the violet-eyed nation worried that things may have not worked out like France had hoped. He had always known about the one-sidedness of their banter and the messy events a few years ago. He assumed Arthur would eventually give in. To hear that France had forced a political hand was a little disappointing. He supposed he was interested because he had known about it for quite some time, and along the way had half-heartedly started to root for them. "Either way, the papers have been signed we just need to pick a date. I'm sure your boss will be pleased to know that. You're invited, by the way." He added quickly.

So they discussed ways that Ivan could trick the other nations into saying no, and Francis promised a couple phone-calls to ease his way. Russia told Francis this would probably suffice for his boss to leave him alone until the wedding, as long as France sent his boss a nasty refusal of marriage. So with everything settled and two cups of empty tea they both went to stand up and call it a day. Francis looked over at the two men and then said something loudly enough for them to hear.

"So no, I'm afraid I cannot marry you Russia. So if you'll excuse me I have things to do today. Anabelle will walk you to the door."

One- no- two down, six more to go.

XxX

Russia was ecstatic to find that France had upheld his promise and phoned his boss, once again declining the offer. He also let it slip that Ivan shouldn't go after England either. Or else France will be very upset and suspicious as to why he would continue his efforts when he knew they were to be married. It couldn't have made his day more if France had _tried_.

So he was off to Canada next.

He tried not to think about what Francis had said about 'the two of them being a handsome match', in fact the thought made him feel guilty. He wanted nothing more than to have this over and done with so he could go to China and grovel at his feet for not being there sooner. There was no way he would be able to explain this without there being some form of anger on China's response. He'd probably spend the next half a year making it up to him. He knew the other nation must be going through hell, especially since all of his brothers and sisters were probably harassing him into insanity. He swore as soon as they were married he'd give one good threat and then he'd never have to hear from Korea again. And if by some horrible twist of fate, China was already married when he got back, he'd happily assassinate whomever it was.

He had fought long and hard to be where he was today with Yao. They had managed to work around their governments, their pasts, the economic problems, and even the other nations. Year after year of anguish and heartache, and he'd finally captured the Asian's heart. The Russian-Sino split had nearly killed them, and it was like complete darkness without him back then.

Yao _knew_ him. He stayed with him even though he was so flawed you could almost literally see through him to the other side. Sometimes he wondered if he really deserved to be with China. With Ivan's track record, he had needed someone who could calm him down. Sometimes he had to show up on his doorstep because he was scared he was turning into a bloodthirsty fiend again. All the nations who now feared him, and with good reason, all watched him with cautious, scarred eyes. He had tried and failed to reconcile the pain and suffering he had put them through on China's insistence. He thought that if he came to terms with what he did it wouldn't eat him up as much as it did. They all just stared at him with the look that screamed 'monster', and Sweden had even threatened him to stay away from Finland. Even though Yao assured him he, too, had issues that were deal-breakers for most, Ivan had yet to find one that actually _scared_ him.

Sure, the long-haired man had appeared to be vehemently opposed to the idea at first, but he still kept _answering _the door, and _accepting_ his invitations to talk, and _answering_ his phone calls, and _writing_ him back letters. It was then that Ivan realized Yao was just as lonely as he was. The only things keeping him from giving in were is Country, his pride, and the fact that he had been hurt before. All three of which Ivan readily dealt with. Relations were the simple part, a nudge of a pen in one direction and they were able to freely move from one country to the other. The pride and lineup of past betrayals? They had taken a while.

Yao had been forsaken by almost everyone he knew. Japan, his own son-like figure, being the worst. As much as Russia had initially wanted to go kill him, China had been angry at the suggestion. Back then; Ivan didn't realize what it had meant for Yao to relive that heartache as he told him about it. This was the first of many snags in their relationship. He should have known China was scared to say anything, and he had betrayed that when he got mad at Japan during the next world meeting. They already didn't like each other, and then he had to go open his mouth over something Yao had made him promise not to mention; the scar. He had thrown him out of his home, saying he needed to fight his own battles, and Russia had no business butting in. He waited outside on his doorstep for four hours until he snuck back in and tried to apologize. Two broken bones later he had decided to wait another week.

China had also resolved long ago that he would never let anyone into his life again who was strong enough to hurt him. Russia had taken all his comfort and thrown it out the window, which really got China off-kilter. As a result he had fallen back on primal instinct to perceive everything as an unwritten threat or challenge. He wouldn't let Russia touch him, and had thrown him clear across the room and into the wall because he had brushed his cheek with the back of his hand gently. Yao apologized about that much later on, once their romance stabilized.

Back then; he hadn't known it was a 'fear of being controlled' thing, so he had come to his own conclusions as to why Yao wouldn't let him near. Russia had thought showing China how formidable at hand-to-hand combat he was would show him he was an equal. Since the older nation had warned him he wouldn't just submit to everything Ivan wanted, he had also assumed he had to fight for it.

Years later, he still wanted to _bang his head against the wall_ for coming to such a dumb conclusion. He had to say that he had grown a bit more since that time, and he still wondered how his twisted mind had decided this. So blocking a punch and pinning the martial artist to the ground? Didn't help lessen anxiety very much. It was the first time he had seen the smaller nation have one of his panic attacks. It was also the first time he saw him cry. Russia nearly jumped off of him when he saw his face crumble like that, and the raven-haired man had locked himself in the bathroom and refused to let Ivan near him for a good half a day.

In return for forcing him to come to terms with his own fear of someone being close that could over-power him, Yao had unknowingly admitted he was scared of Ivan. Which caused the tall blonde to completely back off and start feeling like a monster again.

It had been a never-ending game of 'tag-your-turn-to-feel-bad' for a decade at the least.

Basically, the bottom line ended up being that Yao wanted someone to burst through all his defenses and help him give in, and Ivan… Well… Kind of delivered that on a silver platter.

Once they had gotten past the 'getting into something' phase, well, it was a bit more work. Apparently the Chinese man wasn't quite used to someone showing up at his house at odd hours…Or his work, or his meetings. Ivan had to admit, he had been a bit overzealous about the whole thing in the beginning. A bit.

The fond memories comforted him as he sat in the bumpy chair on the plane ride across the sea. He was just closing his eyes to imagine Yao sleeping beside him when he was jolted awake by the plane landing. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried to wake up. The fleeting thought of seeing China, who was now hours and a sea away, only made him feel more irritable. Damn his boss! Damn him to hell!

XxX

"Okay, when they told us people were camping out at his house. I thought that was an exaggeration."

"Well, _obviously_, it was rather accurate…"

"How does he go to work with all these people waiting for him to leave the house?"

"Maybe he sneaks out a back door…Da?"

The three of them, Ivan and his 'bodyguards', stood outside the property gawking at the sheer amount of nations waiting outside the little home. To add to the insanity, there were little camps set up all across the front lawn, and even into the surrounding area. A mob of nations and a few of their guards were all bunched up around the front of the house. Russia didn't even _know_ there were this many countries, but he did know the country had a lot of outbound ties. The phone-line was cut off too, so there had been no way to alert the Canadian of their visit. France had mentioned this, but not to this magnitude. He had made it sound like some sort of joke!

He walked forward, taking long strides as to make it to the front of the lawn quickly. He wasn't astonished when the arguing nations at the front of the line ceased their bickering and stopped to stare as he went right up to the front door and knocked.

To everyone's immediate surprise, the door opened.

In an instant, a surge of nations rushed forward, and Ivan just made it inside. Without his bodyguards. Perfect.

"I assume Francis got a hold of you?"

"Yes." The smaller nation looked a little unnerved, and turned to walk further into the living room of the house. He beckoned the Russian to follow further into the house, but he stayed exactly where he was. Old habits die hard, and whereas he trusted this kid's mentor, it didn't extend quite as far.

He gazed around, finding the house to be very quaint and small compared to all the other nation's homes. He must not entertain guests, or just one at a time. The front door opened into a small living area. To its credit, the room was filled with cultural artifacts from various countries. He felt a little pleasant surprise when he saw a vinok hanging from the wall. The flowers around the headband weren't real but it reminded him of his sister. That made him immediately relax. All around he could see little pieces of other's countries. If he was trying to impress him with the little Russian flag under the Ukrainian dance wreath on the shelf, it worked.

There was also a disturbing amount of Mexic- wait, Cuban souvenirs. That was right, he remembered Cuba talking at length about his friend above America. Miguel, huh? He should probably give him a call, hadn't talked to him since the Cold War. He smirked when he thought of the one thing they had in common; their dislike for bratty little Alfred. Well, if Canada was this close with Miguel he supposed he didn't have to be wary of him.

"C-can I get you anything? I'm sorry I have to get groceries, so really all I can offer is coffee or water-" The timid nation began to ask, but he was immediately cut off when Russia stopped surveying his house to look directly at him.

"Good, we can make this quick. Punch me." He requested with a bored tone, idly picking up a little panda with the Chinese flag wrapped around its shoulders and smiled warmly at it.

Matthew almost choked on air. He staggered back as if he had been the one to be punched, and then preceded to gape at the taller nation. "Excuse me?"

Ivan sagged his shoulders and prayed to every god he knew of for the patience to get through the next few minutes of explaining. If Canada punched him he would have proof that he had 'desperately tried' to get him to reconsider. It would also prove that the other party had been completely against the idea and appalled at the thought. Two such things, which could easily be assumed with one good punch to the nose, he was banking on. Besides all of that, if he walked out the door with a bloody nose and declared he was rejected then it may get some of the nations to back down. It was a win-win situation.

At the end of his speech, the baby-blue eyed nation was still in the same position he began the explanation in. Eyes wide and mouth agape; he was simply not able to compute the fact that the biggest country in the world wanted a punch in the face- hell he'd even specified the nose! This was definitely not something Francis felt the need to warn him about.

Ivan sighed. He really hated resorting to this, but France said it may happen.

"I just spent several hours on a flight over here, I'm tired, I'm sore, and I'm being _forced_ to cheat on the person I love by my own_ boss_. Can you just punch me so I can go home? Albeit you probably couldn't make much of an impact with your fists since last I heard you have lost your 'spark' after the world war. I personally don't care; if you can get more force then use a blunt object. Just swing as hard as you possibly can, I'll make it believable later. Lord knows your neighbor would just do it-"

Mental note, don't bring America into the conversation when riling up Canada.

He had to hold his head back with handfuls of Kleenex (generously supplied by said Canadian) as he walked out of the house. The door slamming shut ominously behind him. He'd been in there an hour, ten minutes in Matthew had punched him, and the next fifty minutes spent trying to assure the multi-cultural nation that this was EXACTLY what he wanted. He didn't want Matthew to feel bad and phone his boss to apologize; it would ruin the effect completely.

The bodyguards bought it too.

He winced when he tried to assess if his nose was broken, pretty sure it was. Denis (he _supposed_ he could learn the military personnel's names) was a medic and thought so too. Russia really didn't need the bone to be set in place, he did heal rather quickly, but Denis disagreed and re-broke it for him. He now sported two rather nice black eyes and a big bandage over his nose that he could barely see over.

Rodion, the other one, simply watched with interest and kept looking like he was going to make some snide remark. Ivan was pretty sure he would have liked him back when he was a bloodthirsty killer with antisocial tendencies.

Off to America. _This_ should be exceedingly simple.

XxX

It was a warm night; the breeze against his face was gentle and just the right temperature. He looked up and stared at the thousands of stars in the sky, feeling his lips curl up into a private smile. They were so clear that night with the almost full moon high above them. A loud bang echoed through his eardrums, and the stars were suddenly forgotten as dazzling fireworks lit up the sky. The spectacle was breathtaking, with hues of every color dancing in front of his eyes.

He turned his head to the side and watched the light reflect off the ivory skin of his friend. This was the closest they had ever been without the martial artist becoming uncomfortable. They sat side-by-side on the grand steps leading up to one of the oldest shrines in China, their legs barely grazing. Luckily, his attention was focused on the display on top of the festival, so Ivan could admire his golden-brown eyes, and the way they sparkled in delight.

The moon festival had happened on one of those strange warm days in fall. Since Yao was a very traditional person, he had never missed a commemoration to celebrate the gods. Much to the taller man's surprise, the dark-haired nation had invited him this year. It had been the first reunion since their nasty fight two weeks prior. Well, it hadn't been _a fight_ so much as China had pushed Russia away when he tried to kiss him. This had started up the year old argument over the shorter man's lack of trust in the violet-eyed nation. He hadn't tried anything in months, and hell, it was only a kiss. It wasn't like he had thrown him onto the bed and proceeded to have him.

It frustrated the ash-blonde, because he had _thought_ he could just be a friend with the orient nation, but it was proving harder and harder each time he saw him. Loving someone for so long and finally being this close without being able to touch him? It was its own brand of torture. He was pretty sure Yao didn't know how attractive he was. Each time he left he felt silly for being so enamored with the smaller country, but every time he came back he fell for him all over again. Everything was beautiful, from his silken hair, amber eyes, and down to his graceful limbs. Every glimpse of smooth skin on his wrist or his neck teased him mercilessly.

And he was so close metaphorically and physically. Just on the verge of friends and lovers, and inches away from inviting lips.

Yao looked down at his hands, and once the light wasn't shining directly on his cheeks, he noticed they were shading themselves a little darker than their breathless color.

"You're staring." He observed, daring not to look beside him at the other nation.

"I am." He replied honestly. "It's hard not to."

Finally, golden eyes turned on him, and he felt the same familiar flutter. He wondered if that breathlessness would ever go away in time. Just as soon as the honey-orbs had turned on him, they quickly looked away, his ponytail falling across his shoulder as he moved.

"I'm sorry, about last time. It… surprised me."

Russia tried not to be angry at the fact that kisses were _normally not planned_, and he had definitely gone in slowly instead of forcing it on him. Also, what was surprising about Ivan wanting to kiss him? He had made that blatantly obvious that he wanted China since the first moment they met. Still, he wanted this badly and he wouldn't ruin it by just taking what he wanted like he had in the past. This was something completely out of his normal range of _want_. So instead, he bit it down and turned his gaze towards the fireworks once more.

"It's alright." He said evenly, hiding the sadness that he felt when he secretly thought '_it's not going to happen, I don't know why you're still trying_'.

A hand touched his shoulder, and even though he had a fall jacket on, with his ever-present scarf, he still felt the warmth. He saw the other arm reach across and then the gentle pressure of fingertips against his cheek as China turned his face towards him. He was just about to open his mouth and tell the Asian that he had his attention, this was completely unnecessary, but then he shifted closer and the words disappeared.

Yao leaned in and pressed his lips against Ivan's. The blonde blinked a couple times in disbelief that it was actually happening. After recovering he eagerly put his hand against the side of the smaller nation's skull and moved his mouth in impatient response. They pulled millimeters apart so Russia could angle his head and kiss him again; pulling the older nation closer with one arm and shifting so they were facing each other. They were both holding back in uncertainty, the taller man because he wasn't sure he wanted to scare him off after such a huge breakthrough and the older one because he wasn't sure if this was still a good idea.

Regardless of the hesitation, the feeling was indescribable. He couldn't decide what sensation he felt first. Maybe the skip of his heartbeat, or the heat he felt spreading down his body and pooling in his stomach where a gentle flutter was taking flight. He wanted nothing more than to never let go, but China reluctantly pulled away untangling himself from the arms wrapped around him. This was what he had wanted, to have this mutuality between them.

He wanted to chase those lips, pull him back and continue the kiss to prove that.

But then he woke up.

XxX

AN: It is weird to see this cut up into smaller pieces. It was originally on one document with a very small scroll bar. I find I don't have much to say here except the rest is finished, and once I get two reviews I will upload the rest. Just so I know people are interested... Haha.

Oh, and if I don't upload anything else before then, Happy Holidays.


	3. No Regrets, Just Love

Title: Missing Puzzle Piece

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN OR PROFIT FROM HETALIA, THIS IS PURELY FANMADE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. ANY REFERENCES TO LYRICS ARE MADE WITH RECAPITULATION IN MIND.

Genre: Romance/Drama/ Humor

Pairing: Russia/China (Ivan/Yao)

Rating: M

AN: Wow! I am so impressed! Imagine my surprise when I opened my email today to see a whole PAGE full of reviews and favorites for a story I uploaded yesterday. As promised, I said I would upload the rest when I got two reviews. I figured I would get that over a couple days, not mere hours! Thank you so much for the support, I feel so embarrassed and happy. Now I just hope the rest won't be a letdown!

XxX

Violet eyes fluttered open, and blinked blearily around. The first thing he registered was the light above him was on and the airplane was slowing down. The second thing was that the two guys that had been traveling with him were talking lowly, just having a casual conversation. The dream was a memory, the real first kiss about thirty years ago, back in the 80's. That moon festival.

"-Anyways, we got married a year later. Three kids." Ivan turned his head to watch as Denis pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to a picture he was showing Rodion. The other man nodded, and pulled out a small card case that he kept in his breast pocket.

"Got one myself, a girlfriend, her name is Alyona. Getting married in the spring."

Ivan shifted, just realizing how uncomfortable he was. The other men noticed he was awake, and Rodion felt the need to report what their status was.

"We are landing in the states. American personnel diverted us to some place near New York. Apparently Mr. Jones is here already. He has agreed to meet you at one of his condos. They gave us the address once we identified ourselves and they talked to the boss."

"You're getting married?" He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up straighter, sometimes still surprising himself with the childish acts he pulled off. He scratched the back of his skull, and stared over expectantly at the lieutenant. Apparently he was still focusing on the conversation he had heard as he came back into awareness. Rodion showed him the same picture, then placed it safely back into his uniform. He nodded and told him her name just in case he hadn't heard the first time.

Ivan glanced out the window at the blinking lights of New York, realizing how dark it had become here. It must have been early morning in Moscow, and it was only just turning into evening here. He now knew why there were never world meetings over here in America; it would screw up too many people's time zones. How long had they been flying for? He remembered it had taken at least thirteen hours to get to Canada, how long had he been asleep for to get here?

Glancing at the time on his watch, he concluded about an hour and a half.

"You have to marry another nation?" The question interrupted the silence on the plane that the Russian representative had just realized was there. It was meek tone, the gentleman across from him was almost unsure if he should ask.

Ivan's mood immediately soured. "Yes." He could hardly keep the venom out of his tone.

"So… Our boss is pretty much forcing you to marry a guy…?"

Ah, _that_ was where this was going.

"It is supposed to be a diplomatic relationship." He chose his words carefully but his mouth still formed it's same fake-pleasant grin, not too sure how the two other men would react. "Italy suggested the union of two countries to help with the current economic crisis. Many thought it was an intelligent plan."

"What is your opinion on it?" Chimed in the other one, almost too quickly for his liking, but he ignored the suspicion. What if their boss wanted them to ask, and was looking for something to hang over his head? He knew the leader hadn't taken kindly to the decision, but the nations had made it without them. So the humans really could say nothing.

He mulled over his thoughts about it, and then truthfully replied. "I thought the plan had flaws, but I agreed with the idea. At the time I had another nation in mind, so at this point I think it is a horrible idea."

"You guys can fall in love?"

Violet eyes surveyed the curious looks on two of his people; they seemed so surprised that it was possible. Surely they knew nations were half-human, they had emotions and humane needs. Perhaps if someone hadn't met a nation personally they may believe that they were just a walking politician-robot who knew how to fight. He guessed he couldn't blame them. He forgot how obscure the concept of the small race of country embodiments was to normal people, hell; he didn't even get it himself.

Nations also had different social rules than humans did. Back in a time where male nations over-populated, you simply created a relationship with a country regardless of gender or language. He winced when he thought of the alternative, when they would take each other over and virtually force it on the other nation. So they had all grown older and simply disregarded gender completely. They had lived through centuries with no one to create bonds with but people like them. It was the humans who had the issues with gays; nations really could have cared less.

As for Russia, he had fallen in love with China since way before people punished homosexuality, and he didn't care about masculinity or femininity. He just liked whom he liked; it was as simple as that. He sometimes thought his people were so silly for caring who screwed whom. It was sex, an animalistic urge, as long as it was satisfied who cared? If you grew attached, you got married. A very simple concept he sometimes wanted to shake people for. Then again, Ukraine had always told him that love was love, and it didn't matter who you loved as long as you would do anything for them. Her upbringing may have something to do with his opinions.

It certainly wasn't the nations putting people to death for sexual orientation; it was their crazy boss' idea. Quite frankly, the thought of being put to death for liking China was almost funny. What were they going to do, kill their own nation? He knew what happened when a nation was murdered. If it were by their people or by another nation then some natural disaster would hit the country and kill a few hundred or thousand people. If more than half of the population was destroyed by war, and _then_ a nation killed another, the one being attacked would dissolve into a thousand tiny specks of dust. The only way they truly died was during war. If America shot him between the eyes randomly he'd just re-awaken completely healed, and maybe with a small scar where the bullet had gone through.

"Yes." He finally concluded, "we normally fall in love with people like us, though. No one has ever fallen in love with a human. We admire them, but we tend to steer away from things that will die before we do." He paused to let this sink in, and watched the sympathy cross their faces. "We also tend to go for the nations we have had relations with, because we have gotten to know them over the centuries. We each have personalities and opinions on each other that may not reflect how our people think at all. For instance, do either of you know of England?"

They both nodded their heads.

"What would you think of an Englishman?"

One shrugged, "I hear they're polite, kinda reserved I guess."

"I dislike England." Admitted Russia with a scowl, still feeling the twinge of pain since his broken nose hadn't healed all the way yet. "I was in an alliance with him for quite a few years. I find that he's stuck up, picks fights, thinks he's better than everyone, and when he gets drunk he is very annoying. However, that is my opinion of _Arthur Kirkland_, not so much my opinion of his _people_. I still have no idea how Francis likes him, I personally would love to give him a good whack upside the head with a steal pipe when he causes useless bickering." He stared at the space beside him, longing for the object as he thought about it. It was something he had placed at the back of his closet when he swore to change, but it had always comforted him. "Besides that, he managed to influence America to be the annoying wretch he is." His thoughtful expression grew twisted at the thought of the man who had caused him a headache needlessly for something his people referred to as the 'Cold War'.

Instead of asking if historical events influenced his relationships with other nations, as he had assumed, he was blindsided by a completely different inquiry.

"Your friends with France, then?"

"Yes." He nodded in confusion, feeling himself relax into the conversation more as he explained the new train of thought. "Francis is an easy person to get along with -rather lewd- but he offers friendship to almost everyone he meets. Getting past the sexual innuendos, he is a rather agreeable person and nice to talk to about menial things."

"Why didn't you marry France?"

"France is marrying England. Though I wouldn't have minded him, I also have someone I wish to marry personally."

The plane jolted forwards and they all jumped slightly. One look out the window confirmed that they had landed in a private runway. The conversation was abruptly forgotten as they worried about getting out of the aircraft and finding out where this condo was. Ivan felt every muscle in his body tense up when he thought of dealing with the American. It wasn't so much that he still hated him due to the cold war, but he has always found Alfred to be a tiring person to deal with. He just had no patience for him at all.

Upon retrospection, he guessed he really didn't hold as much of a grudge towards the younger nation as he outwardly (or inwardly) expressed. He really didn't have much to hate him for; it wasn't like they had thousands of years of hatred behind them. Just forty or so years where they let their paranoia get the better of them. Surely, if the American wasn't as brash and obnoxious as he perceived him to be, they may even find that they had some things in common. It also didn't help that the younger blonde found every opportunity to call him silly names and go on about his 'hero' prowess.

Alfred had been a bitter teen, and Russia remembered liking him then. When his whole focus was on a goal he had been incredibly easy to work with, pleasant even. He just wondered what the hell had happened since then. He also was positive that the United States representative would say something that would anger him.

A half an hour later a door opened before him, and he wasn't surprised when Alfred Jones leaned against the doorway and silently refused him entrance. He pushed his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose then crossed his arms over the white muscle shirt he adorned. Even though they had called earlier in advanced, or rather were forced to explain why they were flying over American soil, the self-proclaimed hero still looked like he hadn't been expecting them.

"Braginsky." He greeted without much warmth. "Nice black eye, heard Matt gave you that."

"America." Replied Ivan with a fake smile, disregarding the other statement completely.

"Hear you got a question for me, comrade." The younger nation mocked, and the violet eyed nation could see a flicker of the old Cold War hatred still reflecting in his expression. He tried to remain calm and not let the statement get to him. Just four more nations after this, then he could go home. "How's communism working for yah? Does China know you're doin' this?"

The words dripped from his mouth like sweet sugar, but the meaning behind them was venom. "Now Alfred, let's not bring Yao into this conversation. I am here out of obligation to my country. Something I'm sure you are familiar with." He took back all he had thought before about 'not minding' Alfred Jones. He hadn't come here for any sort of fight, and Alfred just _had_ to start something. The familiar headache and tremors that reminded him oh-so-well about his psychopath tendencies started up again. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth to fight them down.

Behind him he heard Denis murmur something about American pigs.

"Yeah, yeah. I'd keep you here in suspense, but I just announced yesterday that I'm getting married." Even though he tried to pull off an uncaring air, the small smile tugged the younger nation's lips upward when he admitted to getting engaged. "So I'll send your boss a letter about how crazy he is for even suggesting this later."

"Congratulations." The word was without an inch of sarcasm. Whoever married America was surely doomed _into insanity_, but the blonde seemed genuinely ecstatic so he could hardly make a snide comment. Besides, marriage was a happy thing, and he wasn't about to stoop to the other man's level of obnoxiousness. Seeing two nations together was always a nice breather for their kind, it proved that negative pasts could always rise to positive futures. He also envied Alfred a little; at least he got to _choose_ who he wanted to marry.

"Alfred?" A soft voice came from the other side of the closed door. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh," The mood immediately changed, and instead of his usual cocky air the American immediately softened and let a love-struck grin creep up onto his face. "Yeah, nothing's wrong. We're just talking." Even his _voice_ lowered to a more bearable tone. There was silence, and then Alfred scoffed, "I'm serious, I'm not starting anything. I just said no. Don't give me that look."

Ivan signed and looked off to the side, deciding that it was just too ironic that the person he disliked was currently with the person he disliked _even more_ for hurting Yao. Oh how they deserved each other. He was mere inches away from his control slipping and saying so, but then the door opened all the way and Japan came into view of the Russian. A simple red t-shirt and dark denim jeans; he easily concluded Yao would look better in them. _Weren't they just the perfect set of candidates to go one some sort of sick double-date?_

"Hello Japan." His face fell into a neutral expression. He wasn't here to be nice to Kiku Honda, especially since their last conversation had nearly ruined his relationship with China. "Congratulations." This one was much less sincere. "Now if you'll excuse me." He turned on his heel and took to the stairs quickly so he could get away before he said something he regretted.

Behind him he heard the door swing open and someone took the few steps to chase him down the first flight of stairs onto the platform. He heard the 'Kiku, what the hell?' before he stopped and turned around to stare down at the little nation. At first the island country didn't know what to say, and he fidgeted nervously, but when he made eye contact Ivan knew it wasn't because he was scared of him at all. Once their eyes locked, the hesitation disappeared from the island's frame. Eyes of redemption, oh he knew them well. If Japan thought there was any way he was getting on Russia's good side he would quickly squash it.

"I'm sorry for anything Alfred may have said that was rude."

"What? I didn't-" From the doorway, the other blonde tried to interject.

"I know this must be hard for you and-"

"Japan," he sighed, wanting nothing more than to leave this nightmare. He didn't care if he was acting out of sorts; if America wanted to make something of it he would let him. He didn't have his normal political fluidity after sitting on a plane for fifteen hours. "Is there a point to this?"

"Can you ask Yao to return my phone calls?"

The sentence was blurted out, and the moment it left his lips the Japanese man looked like he half-regretted it. Russia simply stared at him, and twice in the same week he felt his mind slip into a numbness where he was sure he wasn't hearing the other person correctly. There was no way in heaven, hell, or in-between that Kiku Honda was actually trying to rectify his relationship with his older brother. This must be some sort of sick joke that the American and Japanese couple had cooked up to mock him with. He glanced up to see if he could catch the fleeting look of triumph on Alfred's face. Instead he was astonished to find a concerned sadness.

He couldn't believe it.

"Please." Kiku asked softly, his voice barely rising above a whisper. If it had been any other nation he would have believed them. Except any other nation would have too pure a heart to do something so horrific and not offer an apology right away. Instead of brutally betraying their sibling and then let the hate fester for almost a century. Everyone else had fixed their relationships, but no, now nearly a hundred years later and Kiku wanted forgiveness?

"Seriously, he's been trying to get a hold of him for a while now."

That was the last and best thing he needed to hear. Two seconds later and he would have started yelling, at least now he was calm enough to turn around and walk away without a word. Yao would be angry if he said anything, and he really needed time to think about this. How long was a while? He almost wanted to go back and ask. Instead he shook his head, declared they were heading for Germany, and slumped into his seat. He was too exhausted. He just needed to sleep.

The two other Russians followed silently, starting to form an idea of just what was going on in their nation's personal life.

"You're telling me you've been with China since before the world wars?"

Ivan winced, the outburst had been completely unexpected and he was trying to get rid of the pounding between his ears. He slumped in his seat, rubbing his forehead in a circular motion. This was not his favorite day in history that was for sure. He really didn't want to be reminded about what he was doing to Yao. He gave the other men a tired look, but they just stared at him expectantly.

"We were friends back then; we started the relationship after World War II. Then we had to break up because of our stupid human bosses, and now we're together again. Though, I'm pretty sure after this stunt he's probably not going to speak to me for at least a decade." He stared off out the window, his whole demeanor becoming melancholic. Both the soldiers in the room stared at each other, and decided it would be better to leave their nation to his thoughts.

Once again, Ivan fell into a deep sleep. However this time it was restless and filled with horrid memories.

Black.

Everything was dark; suffocating blackness enveloped all of his senses. All he could hear was silence, not even the sound of his own breathing breached the fog of confusion. He didn't know where he was or what he was doing there, but he had the sinking feeling like he had felt this before. With ice-cold fear dripping down his back he realized where he had experienced this before. It felt like when he would black out and then wake up with bodies littering the ground and blood soaking into his hands.

No, not again! It had been so long since the last episode!

Where was he? Where was the last place he remembered? He remembered a glimpse of the Manchurian border and then… No! Was he slaughtering the soldiers on the border? What if China was there, he wouldn't hurt him, would he? The Asian representative didn't know about these black outs. Back when they had first met he had been perfectly normal. He wouldn't know what to do; he'd think Ivan really wanted to kill him!

Even thought he couldn't hear it, he knew he had started to hyperventilate.

A blink. A flash. Suddenly his eyes opened and he was face to face with countless bodies. Just as he feared, he felt tears begin to prickle at the thought of being the one responsible. All around him the carnage was nearly unbearable to gaze upon. Countless bodies littered the snowy ground. The whiteness desperately trying to cover up the scene, but the blood seeped through and dyed it a dark crimson. Body parts lay strewn across the area, some not even close to the rest of the body. Dark green uniforms tattered and torn to shreds by swords and guns and shrapnel.

"It's not your fault."… "You had to do it."… "Thank you."

There, just below where he stood on the small mound; he looked down and saw lifeless golden eyes staring up at the sky.

He awoke with a start, a familiar voice asking him if he was all right. He shook his head and greedily gulped in breath after breath. He was disoriented, everything still looked dark. He wasn't sure if he was still in his dream and this was a new part. He put his head in his hands, trying to stop the tremors that were making it hard to concentrate on breathing. He felt his whole body shaking, and he was covered in a cold, clammy sweat.

"Sir!"

He shook his head viciously, that was Russian. No he didn't want to hear Russian; it meant he wasn't in China. It meant he wasn't near the one person who could calm him down when he was like this. The dream was long since forgotten, but the crippling fear still had a firm grip on his consciousness. Where was he? Why was it so dark? Dark violet eyes caught sight of a military uniform and he backed away from it like he had been scalded.

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." Confirmed a far-away voice. "Give him some room, he'll come around, whatever you do don't touch him. Rodion, grab the lights."

Suddenly, everything was bright, and he winced against the onslaught on his senses. Slowly the world was starting to slip back to him. He was on an airplane, and it had been dark because outside it was night. He had probably woken up all the others on the flight with him. He needed to calm down, take a look around. He wasn't where he thought he was. There was no blood, no screaming, and no smothering darkness.

"Man, I know guys that attack their wives with this shit, how bad do you think it is for a nation? They probably have it the worst."

Right… He took in another shuddering breath. He remembered now.

"W…Was I screaming?" The words come out strained and raw, like he hadn't used his voice in years. Each breath felt like knives going down his throat. The pounding in his skull lessened, as he got more and more of his bearings.

"Yes." Admitted one of the indecipherable blurs he knew to be the crew he was traveling with.

"Sir, I need you to listen to me. Do you have anything that helps you cope with your nightmares?"

_Yes, someone who was probably not going to speak to him again._

He shook his head.

It was clichéd but Yao always calmed him down, no matter what it was or how it resurfaced. One touch and he was able to relax him so he could talk about it. Just being in the same room was enough sometimes to stop the terror from taking over. He used to wait until he wasn't disoriented anymore and pull Ivan close, let him cling to his waist, and let him rest his head on his chest as the dark-haired nation pulled his bangs from his face and talked to him in a calm, soothing tone. He'd kiss away every inch of tension: his forehead, his temple, his brow, the corners of his mouth, and then his knuckles. It didn't matter what time of the day it was, he simply waited until he was sure the other was in a deep sleep before he stopped his ministrations.

It was way different from what happened to China. The older nation would have severe panic attacks; they were enough to make him run out into moving traffic. He used to have to hold onto him, lead him somewhere unpopulated and hug him tightly until he calmed down. The other nation would fight and claw and scream, but he never let him go. He would never be able to stroke his hair or kiss away the fear; he would just rile him up more. After he finished fighting back, he would slump into an emotionless state and need copious amounts of sleep before he rejuvenated.

Unlike Ivan's random bouts of PTSD, three things caused Yao's panic disorder. The first was his makeshift family of the Asian countries, especially when one of them was coming to visit. The second was when there was a money problem, since most of the time when people had invaded it was because he was too weak to form a proper military. Finally, the third, which Ivan hadn't known about until about a decade ago, was when _he_ left and knew he wouldn't be able to come back for at least a month.

The fact that he wasn't there and that there was a possibility Yao was feeling this too, made him feel sick to his stomach. He clutched his abdomen and doubled over; he needed to stop thinking about negative thoughts. It was not helping the predicament. He just needed to remember the sensation of someone petting is hair, or the sound of a heartbeat.

Slowly, his pulse went back down to normal and his breathing stabilized. Everyone on board visibly relaxed.

"Okay," He straightened up and leaned heavily against the seat. "I'm better now."

"It took you an_ hour _to calm down." Said Rodion, who had long since made himself comfortable to wait out the attack. He was lying down on the little couch, a magazine casually held in one hand, the other slung across his forehead. Apparently this sort of thing didn't bother him at all. Or rather, he had seen it too many times before to care.

Well, this was awkward.

"So." Denis stood up and stretched, trying to return the plane to its casual mood. "While you were asleep we, uh, decided we'd help you."

Ivan stared at him, not too sure where this was going. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared between the two of them. Rodion wouldn't make eye contact, and was trying to act nonchalant. He was the younger of the two, probably only around twenty. Whereas the medic had to be at least forty, and the more professional, so he stood there and explained the plan. Throughout the whole explanation, the nation couldn't help but feel a little swell of gratitude –and suspicion- towards them.

"We don't particularly like the idea of going against boss' orders. However in this case we see an exception. If you want to sabotage this mission we have no problems with you doing so. We will coincide our reports to make it seem like you did your best… Sir."

"Lotsa paperwork anyways." Murmured the youngest as he set to flipping the page, "I'll just copy what he writes. Gets me home to plan my wedding faster."

He thanked them.

XxX

From there, things went a lot swifter than he could have imagined. He wasn't sure if he trusted the two officers, but at that point he was suffering from serious lack of sleep, homesickness, and the desire to run to China and explain what happened before the nation knew any different. Since he was on his way to Germany, he figured he could do that meeting in person. Instead of flying all the way to Switzerland, he figured a phone call would suffice. Especially since the other nation was a little psycho when it came to people gong near his lawn. So he'd rather not have a new bullet hole to explain.

"Hello Switzerland."

"What the hell do you want?"

"You don't want to marry me, da?"

"What? No way in hell-"

"Good, I just sent my boss a letter from you stating that you refuse. If he phones to confirm just be your usual miserable self. Thank you!"

He cut the phone line before he heard the string of curses that he was certain the other nation was spewing on the other end of the call. He cheerfully pulled out the list and drew a line through his name, humming cheerfully to himself. He ignored the comments from the lieutenant, saying something about him being bipolar.

XxX

Germany opened the door, looking like he was just about to leave the house. He had to give a double take because he sure wasn't used to having the towering Russian on his doorstep. Calculating blue eyes stared at him warily, and he carefully greeted the other nation. He could see the Aryan nation trying to think of a reason why he should be having this visit, especially since the taller nation looked exceptionally creepy with his wide smile.

"No." Stated Russia simply, the grin still in place. He looked so proud of himself too, like a child who had just found a loophole in his parent's rebuttal.

"Nien?" Ludwig parroted back, face contorting into one a perplexed one. His hand twitched on the door, unsure of what he should do.

"Okay, he said no~!" Ivan sing-songed back to the two waiting guards, who both rolled their eyes and spun on their heels to walk back to the plane waiting in the German's front yard. They left the other nation there gawking, and they flew off to go find Austria.

XxX

AN: Once again, I hope you all enjoy this. I have one more chapter to go! I will upload it within the next few days.

Happy Holidays Again!


	4. Let You Put Your Hands On Me

Title: Missing Puzzle Piece

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN OR PROFIT FROM HETALIA, THIS IS PURELY FANMADE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. ANY REFERENCES TO LYRICS ARE MADE WITH RECAPITULATION IN MIND.

Genre: Romance/Drama/ Humor

Pairing: Russia/China (Ivan/Yao)

Rating: M

AN: And now for the final chapter. I considered breaking it up into two halves but I figured you all waited long enough for the (horrible) smut. I quite like Rodion and Denis, they grew on me through writing this…

I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it…

For Cherry Flavored Awesome: I really like having character interactions between countries, and I've noticed through watching Hetalia that France and Russia do talk a lot. I also think that they are very similar in many ways, and have seen others write along this wavelength as well. I'm glad you enjoyed that.

And yes, I am so long-winded sometimes… I'm pretty sure I could have cut out an eighth of this story's explanation and people would have still liked it the same.

Thanks for the reviews and the support guys! On to the conclusion!

XxX

"So you are telling me, that _every single one of them_ said no?" Roared Russia's boss, who probably wanted nothing more than to strangle the smug smirk off his nation's face. The two military officers stood outside the room, the younger one wincing at the sound of the Prime Minister's angry tone. They clutched their reports in their hands, hoping that they could just hand them in when the man was done yelling at Ivan without being interrogated. Rodion wasn't even sure of what he had written down, but if need be he could just play dumb until he did remember.

"_Where is he, aru_?"

They both turned their heads; Rodion had to lean over to see around his superior officer. There, coming down the hall, was one of the most beautiful creatures in creation. Perfect almond shaped amber eyes, flawless ivory skin, silken black hair pulled together by a red string over their shoulder, and red robes dancing around their form as they glided towards the both of them. Neither could form a coherent sentence for a moment, one trying to decipher if the being before them was male or female and the other wondering if all Asians were as beautiful as this one. Then they both put two and two together and nearly jumped out of their skin when it dawned on them.

Later on, both would wonder aloud if Ivan's attraction towards Yao could somehow rub off onto his people.

Denis bowed low in a respectful manner, realizing they were not only in the presence of another nation, but this was the lover of their country. They could not afford to be rude to a person who could very well declare war on them, nor would it help Russia's predicament. When their nation had told them about the other country he had not mentioned how he looked, they had both come up with something completely different in their minds.

"_You're_ China!"

Yao's angered eyes landed on Rodion, and Denis wished he really _had_ broken his leg before he was asked to accompany his nation on a trip. If he had, he wouldn't be thinking about ways to apologize to someone who was one step away from being a deity.

The Chinese man's steps faltered, and instead of bursting into the office like he had intended, he stopped before the two soldiers and seized them up. If they knew who he was then there was a possibility that they were high enough rank to know what was going on. He may be able to get some information out of them before he confronted Russia.

"Yes that I am." He crossed his arms across his chest and ground out the words. He honestly wished the guards at the airport didn't know him. At least then he could have released some of his tension by beating the crap out of them. He wanted nothing more than to punch a hole through a wall, or perhaps one huge Russian nation through a couple of them. Maybe even a brick wall if he _really_ wanted to do some damage. "Where is Russia, aru?"

The younger one sounded impressed, "You speak Russian very well, you know."

The older one actually put his hand up to cover his face in shame. China decided ignoring the younger one would be a safer bet, and instead addressed the older looking one. "Do you know where he is? Or shall I continue looking?"

"He is in a meeting with our boss. He should be available momentarily."

Golden eyes glanced at the door behind the two of them, and then he shifted his weight as if deciding on something. Both guards were watching him, and they seemed to know quite a bit about the situation, so he switched gears.

"Where has he been for the past two weeks?"

The two of them eyed each other, trying to figure out if they should say anything. It would probably only make things worse. If China didn't know what happened yet, then they could easily play dumb and make something up.

"I'm afraid we have no idea what you are talking about." One of them said, keeping their voice even and straightening out to look confident in his answer. This was not what the other nation wanted to hear, and they watched him take in a deep breath to stop himself from maiming them.

"I know he was out of the country for _two weeks_."

Well, **that** screwed up their plans.

"We weren't with him…" The loudmouth tried to explain; "we are simply guarding the room while they have their meeting-"

The doors opened, and Ivan walked out triumphantly looking like he had just won a war. He opened his mouth to say something to the two guards, but then he realized something was wrong. As soon as he caught sight of the other nation his face fell into one of surprise and fear. He looked back and forth between his two men, who both faced forward and decided this was the right time to act like _real _officers. They had their hands behind their backs and were standing in attention, neither looking anywhere but forward.

"Lieutenant Denis, Lieutenant Rodion, get in here." Yelled their boss, and both jumped and quickly retreated into the office. Suddenly dealing with their superior was much less uncomfortable than standing between two countries in a lover's quarrel.

Even as the door closed, they heard the low growl from the Asian as the interrogation began. When they came to a halt at the Prime Minister's desk they were all too amused to see that he was hanging up the phone, muttering a 'yes, dear,' before he addressed them.

Back outside the room, Ivan pursed his lips and waited for the inevitable confrontation. He wanted to run forward and never let go of the smaller nation, but this was probably _not_ the time. God he looked amazing, though. It was hard not to think about it and focus on the problem at hand. He had to remember that he was more than likely in trouble for making the other nation wait a month.

Yao didn't know where to start. "You…" He took a step forward and then stopped. He brought both of his hands up and put them over his face in a frustrated manner. "You have no _idea_…" He tried to start again, trying to ignore the prickling sensation that was beginning to form in his eyes and at the back of his throat. It made him even more livid that only Ivan could reduce him to a crying _woman_.

"Yao I-" Ivan tried to reach out towards the other, but China stepped back and shook his head. He held up his hand and gestured for the Russian not to come any closer.

"I stupidly… Told… My boss." He was trying not to cry, trying to keep the hurt out of his tone and act as composed as he had in the past. "I was already getting married. Since the moment I came off the plane from Italy I told him whom I was marrying and he didn't have a say in the matter."

Russia felt shame wash over him; his heart squeezed in his chest unpleasantly as he thought about all the repercussions that meant. China had put all his faith in him only to be completely disappointed and humiliated. Ivan must have put the other nation through hell, and if the Asian's boss ever found out about his little expedition then he wouldn't think twice about declaring it being a betrayal on their country.

He should have done the _exact same thing_ instead of just presuming that he could waltz down to his boss' office and tell him he chose Yao.

"He has been phoning me steady since then, asking me why I haven't shown up at his office with a contract in hand. Every time I have had to lie and then get off the phone and call you only to find that all my messages went straight to voicemail, aru. I finally phoned the receptionist who told me you had left _a week ago_ on a plane. You couldn't phone me and tell me where you were going, or what you were planning to do? If you don't want to marry me then you could have been a man and told me to my face instead of leaving the country to avoid me."

Ivan tried to interject, tried to explain, but Yao just cut him off and kept going. "Then I get a call from Taiwan wondering why you were in _Canada_." The tears built up too quickly after that, he had to turn his face away. "So I phoned _France_." His voice cracked, and he took in a shuddering breath to calm himself. "Who proceeded to _lie through his teeth for you_, but then England spoke up in the background and wondered how Francis forgot you were there _just last week_."

He was getting desperate now; he rushed forward and grabbed Yao's hands, trying to lean over so he could peer into his face. "Listen to me; I was not trying to get away from you. It was exactly the opposite!" He shook him slightly, trying to get him to snap out of it. His face fell into an unsure smile, like this could all be fixed and rationalized easily if the other nation would just hear what he was saying.

"Oh, so you decided to take another route when you could have just walked into China and told my boss I wasn't **making up a husband off the top of my head**!"

They'd switched over into Chinese, the red-clad nation becoming too hysterical to remember any more Russian. He pulled his arms out of Russia's hands and began to walk away quickly, his anger fueling him on. He heard the taller man catch up and try to take his hand again, but fear and anxiety and betrayal took over. He planted his feet, pulled back his palm and then slammed it as hard as he could into Ivan's solar plexus. He felt a small flare of pride as he watched the giant nation go flying back into the wall.

"Never mind," he spat out as the larger nation tried to simultaneously get air back in his lungs and stagger into a standing position. "It's not like this marriage means anything anyways, does it? Just a political convenience." He then continued on his way out of the government building and back towards the airport. Leaving the younger nation to collapse back to his knees and hide his head in his hands, suddenly realizing that it was much worse than he had imagined.

XxX

When Yao got home the last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone, let alone answer a phone call. So when he looked down at the phone he noticed it wasn't a Russian area code and grabbed the receiver, bringing it to his ear and braking out a sharp 'what?'

"Hey China! It's your really awesome friend America-"

"I don't care who you are, do you have something important to say!" He snapped angrily, a second away from ending the call.

"Whoa, shit you must have talked to Russia." Alfred snorted haughtily, and he heard another voice in the background say something else he couldn't quite decipher.

The reality of those words hit him with another meaning, and he closed his eyes against the onslaught of tears that escaped between his eyelashes. It all started to unravel; he was no longer able to keep the frustration at his lover's disloyalty in. Russia had even gone to America, and it didn't even matter why. His mind was already filling that void of information with a million scenarios, all of them increasing his anxiety. How had he stupidly put his trust in Ivan? Hadn't he learned already? The one person he cared for gone behind his back and left without telling him, without _calling_.

"Listen I wanted to talk to you about that… I was kind of a douche about it when he was here. I know it wasn't his fault. His boss is just not as cool as mine and then Kiku found out he was being threatened and-"

Click.

He just didn't want to hear the rest of it, slamming the phone down and realizing that he was shaking. He didn't know who he was angry at more, himself or the Russian. All the rage came to nothing, and he couldn't stop himself as he sank to the ground holding onto the counter. At first he just stared at the ground, feeling the feelings surge up and then crash down into him, and then he just let the sobs overtake him. The phone rang a few more times and each time it went to voicemail. He curled in on himself, ignoring the sound of the American telling him to pick up the phone. He just sat there like that, feeling like he was having the worst panic attack in his life, except it was doubled with the dread and pain that there was no one to hold him as he went through it. He wasn't even sure which part affected him more, that Ivan had done this to him, or that _Kiku_ knew about it before he did.

He had made him look like an idiot, like a stupid fool. His boss no longer believed he had worked things out with Russia at all, and he was ordering the older nation to find someone suitable before he made an even bigger embarrassment out of himself. He had even made a comment about how appalled he was at the fact that his nation had developed superficial feelings for a monster like the Soviet Union.

Beep.

"China…" His head snapped up, and breathing stopped. "Russia was being blackmailed into proposing to a few countries. His boss said he would phone Belarus if he didn't do it. It would be the same thing if yours said you had to marry Korea-"

He picked up the phone. "Don't... Don't even Japan. Don't pretend like you care."

Click.

China awoke much later, having crawled to his bed and fallen asleep there, with his face in the pillows. It was probably eight o'clock or so, judging by the fact that there were orange hues pushing through the curtains. He rubbed his cheek and sniffed loudly. The tear stains down his face felt itchy, and he wiped away at them furiously. A large migraine awaited him when he slowly sat up, and it only brought the events he had been crying about back faster. He massaged his temples and glanced down at what he was wearing.

He still felt exhausted, so he knew he could probably go back to sleep right away if he really tried. Instead he picked himself off of the sheets and crawled over to the edge of the bed. He needed to have a calming cup of tea and get dressed into something more suited for sleeping. He wandered around in the darkened room, rustling through the closet-room for something to wear. His hands fell on a large white shirt, and he yanked it out off the hanger. He stared down at it, tears clouding his vision again.

He pressed his face into the white pajama shirt, and hiccoughed as tears pooled at the bottom of his eyelids. He didn't want to think about what he was doing. Mindlessly, he stripped off his clothes and left them there in the walk in closet before pulling the article over his head and down past his thighs. He rolled up the sleeves and wiped away the stray tear, telling himself that he probably would have put on the first set of sleepwear he found. He sniffed again and pulled his hair out of his ponytail to run his hands through it and fix the way some of the strands stood up.

He walked out of the room, throwing the tie on the side table as he wandered into the rest of the house. He padded past the study and the front room, ending up in the bright kitchen. He turned off half of the lights and set on making himself some relaxing tea. At that point he didn't care if it was bagged; he didn't feel like steeping his own. He rummaged around and found the little tin of bags and threw one in a mug.

He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, waiting for the water to boil. He was running his hands through his hair, and just thinking about what he would do for the remainder of the day when the phone rang again. He growled and rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the kettle and willing it to start boiling.

Beep

"It's me." A sharp pain shot through his heart at the sound of Russia's voice, but he tried to ignore the feeling. So what if Ivan became another conditioned stimulus to his panic attacks? He'd happily avoid him for the rest of eternity because of what he put him through. "I know you're there. I just want you to know I'm…" A sigh broke off the words. "I know I messed up. Please let me in."

Golden eyes locked onto the answering machine, praying that he had just heard that wrong and the stupid bastard didn't have the audacity to be outside on his doorstep. He scoffed and turned towards the kettle as it began whistling. He poured the hot water into the cup and set his mind on ignoring the person outside. He couldn't believe he hadn't anticipated this, it was the same time he did every time they had a scrap. They just hadn't had a fight in a while, so he was out of practice.

Wait, this wasn't a fight! He shouldn't even dare to show his face around here!

He slammed his hand down on the counter and almost toppled over the cup. He grabbed it and steadied it quickly. Well, he should go lock the door. Ivan would probably try it in a couple minutes if he didn't answer. He turned around with the mug in hand and began striding towards the main entrance. He froze, however, when he heard a gentle knock and then it opened before he could round the corner into the foyer.

"Fuck." He hissed as he turned around and proceeded to back track into the kitchen and around to the bedroom so he could hop into the shower and pretend like he had been in there the whole time. Sure, it wasn't a very noble plan, but he would prolong seeing the person he wanted to throw into the ocean with a cement brick attached to his foot.

"Yao wait." Ivan must have rounded the corner just as he almost made it out of sight into the kitchen.

"Fuck." He repeated, and decided he should have thrown the cup right at his face as soon as he opened the door. He looked down and seriously considered it, deciding he would take a sip first. It was such a waste, and it wasn't like he could get away now. In the time it took him to blow off the steam and take a tiny taste the long strides of the Russian brought him to stand right behind China.

"Yao…" Ivan pleaded softly. Said nation turned towards the sound of the voice with a glare that could spontaneously combust a normal human.

Before he could ask what the hell the violet-eyed nation thought he was doing there, Russia got down on his knees and wrapped his arms around the Asian's waist, burying his face into his stomach.

"I have hot tea in my hands right above your head. Don't think I won't drop it if you don't let me go this instant."

"Go ahead. Rip me into a thousand tiny pieces. I deserve that much for doing this to you." The voice answered immediately, muffled by the shirt his mouth was pressed into. There was dead silence for another minute as Yao weighed the pros and cons of sacrificing the cup and its contents in order to cause Ivan pain. In his silent debate, the Russian began to talk.

"I should have done exactly as you said. I should have told my boss his opinion didn't matter. It's me who has to get married and I choose you. I choose you over everything. I should have let him phone Belarus, and then just walked out the door. I should have phoned you…" He bowed his head and sunk further down so he was sitting on his knees, now his face was pressed against his hip. "I caused you so much pain…"

"All I thought about was how I would face you after I went around and did that behind your back. Even if I didn't want to I still felt like the lowest life form for going through with it. I didn't even think about if you had said anything about us getting married. Now that I think of it, that was so stupid of me, of course your boss would want to know what you planned on doing. This is entirely my fault and I will gladly spend the rest of eternity making it up to you."

When he finally did sneak a peek at the Orient's face he found thick eyelashes closed, and a fresh onslaught of fluid precariously waiting to fall. He didn't think someone as beautiful as Yao should even have the ability to cry. It made the guilt already eating him away inside feel like it was working on overtime. He pressed his mouth against the material over his abdomen. Then slowly stood up and gently pried the tea out of his hands before setting it on a shelf somewhere.

"You don't have to forgive me, just please give me a chance to make it up to you."

Once Yao's hands were free, they flew to his face and he shook his head harshly. "No, no, no! You don't even get it!" He turned away, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a napkin to scrub the tears off his cheeks. "You've driven me insane!" He slammed his hands down on the counter, his voice cracking again.

He rounded on the Russian, who had followed right behind him, swung his arm back and slapped him as hard as he could. Ivan just let him, and didn't even try to stop him when he grabbed his collar and shook him.

"I waited three months and nine days to see you again -the world meeting not counted- and I find out you've not only wormed your way into _every_ aspect of my life, but then you do this. I was tired, and miserable, and I missed you. I had so many panic attacks because I thought you had finally realized that I am as pathetic as I feel and went off to find someone new. Which, basically, you did. If my boss had mentioned joining with Korea I would have known he was bluffing because everyone is on the verge of declaring nuclear war on him! This isn't about being nation's anymore! That stopped when I woke up one morning two months ago and felt like some love-struck teenager who couldn't focus on their work because they were too busy realizing that everything they did made them miss their boyfriend. Do you see what you have reduced me to? Do you have any idea?"

"I-"

"I'm _in love_ with you!" He finally exploded, pounding a fist weakly against the broad chest in front of him. He felt so drained and exposed. Like he was just waiting for Russia to start laughing or walk away. He was suddenly back in a time when he was too weak to do anything but watch as country after country picked out pieces of his empire and took them away from him. Long gashes in his arms and legs appearing randomly as his land was fought over like children fighting over who got the most candies.

"I'm sorry…" Large arms enveloped his lithe frame, and he hated Ivan even more for it. He hated how small and fragile he felt when the bigger country held him. At the same time, it was comforting and he felt himself fall into the embrace completely, resting all his weight against the other. "I love you… I know it's hard to believe right now because I am a monster at best and you shouldn't trust me… But it is killing me too." He felt the breath against his neck as the other nation pressed his face into the crook there. "You helped me find my human side again, something I wasn't even sure I had anymore. You made the nightmares go away. I won't be able to live without you."

Yao snorted, pushing away slightly to wipe his face on the sleeve, "we're immortal; you would have to live on without me anyways. It comes with being one of our kinds." He pulled his bangs from his tear-soaked face, trying to smoothen out his looks and regain some of his dignity. He had cried over a lover, Russia really was tearing away every last inch of his pride.

"I'd be the luckiest person in the world if you decided to marry me, until the world stops spinning. I don't know who I am anymore, but I find that I don't care as long as you're going through this too." He grabbed the sides of his face and forced him to look up into his earnest eyes. The violet orbs trying to desperately get through to him, eyes that once held a malicious glint were now watching him with undiluted affection. Yao's hate increased exponentially because damnit, he wasn't mad anymore. He COULDN'T stay mad, and he wanted nothing more than to say yes, but the distrust…

"Please?"

China frowned at him. "Did you just seriously ask 'will you marry me, _please_?'"

Russia nodded sincerely.

He swallowed thickly, and knew he had lost this before it even began. He just couldn't understand how he could go from having his world ripped from underneath his feet to feeling like his thoughts were explicitly and embarrassingly exposed. Why couldn't he just feel in control for once, did he like this paranoia and the strange masochism that came with dealing with Russia? He had taken away every single thing and replaced it with him, him, and more him until he was drowning in the way his heart clenched with every passing thought of Ivan. When had he turned from a stalkerish, irritating, childlike person into a man who had beautifully crafted his manipulation until Yao was weak in his hands?

Monster… But he couldn't bring himself to mind.

"Fine."

Over-zealous lips came crashing down onto his, and he wasn't expecting it at all. If the taller man hadn't been holding him he probably would have fallen back. Still, he felt himself slipping his arms from the hold around them and pulling the giant down closer towards him. He kissed back immediately, his pulse beating wildly in his veins as he was lifted off the ground and crushed against the Russian's chest as he spun him around once. He pulled away laughing, hefted himself up further into his arms, wrapped his legs around his waist, and then kissed him again.

The kiss was a flurry of motion, the two of them just staying there as tongues and lips and teeth danced. Yao's hands were running through silver-blond strands, and he didn't care if this wasn't how a nation should act. He didn't care if someone as old as he was shouldn't be making out with another person like a teenager. I also could care less if his boss walked in at that exact moment to see him like this. He no longer knew how fast his heart was racing, or cared if he could breathe. He wanted to meld his body against Ivan's until he couldn't tell where his ended and the other's began.

He never wanted to know a world where he wasn't with Russia. Thoughts of days before this, before their relationship began, they didn't even matter. They were like a past lifetime, one he could barely remember when Russia nibbled on his bottom lip like that. It was suddenly unbearable that he wasn't able to unclothe Ivan from his position. He reluctantly broke the kiss and unwrapped his legs from around his now fiancé. It was almost dizzying how quickly things switched from one extreme to the other, but now the only thought on his mind was he just wanted this love to be channeled somewhere.

"Come on." He went to pull the tall blonde behind him but an arm around his waist stopped his train of thought abruptly. He turned around, lips pressing against his firmly and he rested his hands against his forearms. He smiled behind his mouth, and tried to back up and make the hint that they should probably relocate to somewhere they could be horizontal. Instead he felt Ivan take his hand and something cool slipped over his finger.

He felt ridiculously excited when he looked down to find a little band of gold with a red center and a jade set around it staring back up at him. He admired it for another moment before his body caught up with him and he pulled Ivan in for a searing kiss that left them both breathless and incredibly turned on.

"I have one for you but I think we can find it later…" He swallowed thickly, still trying to get air back into his lungs long enough before he had to race him to the bedroom.

"Agreed." The taller lover replied just as breathlessly. He nearly pulled Yao down the hall to his room, throwing off his scarf and coat before the door had even closed shut behind them. The dark-haired Asian helped him to get out of most of his clothing in a flurry of movement only interrupted by kisses here and there as each article fell away from the Russian. The only thing left on him was his pants when they fell onto the bed.

Hot breath ghosted over his skin, practiced teeth nipping at an exposed nipple as the shirt was pulled apart at the neck, a few of the buttons slipping out on their own with the tug. He arched up slightly, his breath hitching and toes curling and uncurling after each sensation. One feeling blended into the next, it felt like his whole body was covered in a warm, moist mouth and cool, roaming hands. Their hands and arms entangled as they tried to feel their way all over the each other's body, remembering every spot from perfect memory.

He felt the hands disappear from entangling in his hair and sliding down under his shirt to push it up and run them up his abdomen. He was burning alive, the cool metal against his hand only reminding him of how badly he wanted this. Yao found his mouth again and slid is tongue along his bottom lip until he was granted access, hands sliding through silver-blonde hair as the body settled and pressed down between his legs.

Large hands fumbled with his shirt, Russia finding it aggravating that it was easier putting on himself then taking it off someone else. He succeeded in getting the buttons to co-operate with him and pushed the shirt away from the heaving chest, noticing how short o breath they both were. Sensing that he was watching him, China tried to pull him closer so he wouldn't feel embarrassed.

Deciding this would not fly and he _really_ wanted to fry his brain he stopped, pinned China beneath him, and took in the sight. Lips parted, red arousing flush across his skin, hair splayed across the sheets in a sexy mess, and _his_ shirt falling off of the graceful form. Every coherent thought fizzed out and he stared mesmerized. He didn't care what he looked like, but he did notice he was getting the same treatment. Eyes darkened by lust raked over his body and he couldn't help but notice how his lover bit his bottom lip as he stared at him.

He descended upon him again, quickly bypassing his chest and stomach down to where the other man was painfully aroused. He took no time in possessing that as well, the gasp and then a drawn out moan coming from above him spurring him on. A hand flew to the sheets, fingers trying to find perchance in the material.

"Iv-AHH-nngh!" He would have grinned from being able to cut off the older nation, but he was a little preoccupied. "I need… _yh_…" China panted out above him, trying very hard to keep the half-scream from erupting from his throat. "_Oh_…"

He reluctantly pulled away when the smaller nation pushed at his shoulders. He stared up at him, drinking in the hot half-lidded look on Yao's face. He could have sworn he saw those lips form some sort of wordless plea. He crawled up further; pressing open-mouthed kisses all over his chest as shaking hands undid the zipper on his pants. Once that was done and his lover couldn't push them away any further he sat up, pulled both remaining articles of clothing down and off.

Yao had turned onto his side and reached over to grab something from the beside-table. Ivan trailed his lips up his exposed thigh, pushing the remaining material of the white shirt out of the way. He had just started biting down to leave a mark right below the pelvic bone that jutted out before him when the Chinese nation pushed the bottle into his hands.

He didn't even have to look; instead he continued to place the mark there. The cap on the bottle popped open and rubbed a generous amount into his fingers. He rubbed the ring of muscle teasingly before pushing Yao onto his back and spreading his legs to get better access. The first finger slipped in, and the golden-eyed lover moved back against it, his breath hitching in his throat in the same way as before. He pushed another in, feeling the muscle close in around him and listening to the wanton cries of the older nation.

He slipped the fingers out, and pulled Yao's waist towards him. He glided along the covers, the shirt riding up even further and his long silken hair brushing across the mattress like the wisps of a paint brush. The lithe frame under him let his hands un-fist and slip down with him until he was almost sitting against his lap, the scene before him made him smile. It was the little displays of strength, and how small Yao was, that made Ivan worry China would shy away again. Instead he saw a mix of emotions pass those eyes as he slid towards of them, none of them being even close to fear.

The Asian let Ivan maneuver his legs and hips so he could move into him. Once he pressed against the entrance he slammed in, watching as China arched off the bed and threw his head back into the pillows, gasping out illogical moans. He pulled out and pushed back in, picking a fast pace and finding the smaller nation appreciated this by the sounds he was making. He had moved into the familiar position so he could relentlessly thrust into his prostate. His fiancé grabbed his shoulders and nearly smashed their mouths together, only stopping the kiss when he almost bit down on Ivan's bottom lip

He groaned, feeling the pleasure in his stomach starting to coil tighter and tighter. His heavy breaths matching Yao's and he wrapped his hand around the leaking erection, precum dripping down his hand to make the strokes smoother. He felt the other nation contract around him, and he was mere seconds behind him when his orgasm hit. He fell forward, his forehead resting against the other's heartbeat. Moaning out China's name and pretty sure that as his whole vision had a whiteout, he heard his too.

When he was finally able to remember his name he flipped onto his back, surprised that just as he was going to pull Yao closer, the other man got up off the bed. He watched him wrap the shirt around himself and then he looked left, right, and finally into the walk-in closet. He was already trying to fix his hair, and ignoring the mess he was making as he wandered around. A minute later he heard some shuffling and the bed-messed nation crawled back onto the mattress with a dark navy box. He crossed his arms across Ivan's chest with the box, and then placed it right in front of his hands. Warm golden eyes watched as the Russian reached for the box, opened it, and pulled out a golden band with a square ruby as the center. It must have been an imperial's ring at some point, because golden dragons curled in on either side, mouths open to devour the ruby. He had the strange feeling that this was a very important ring.

And it fit. Which seemed to relieve the Chinese representative.

He reached forward and pushed the long, dark hair out of his face and then took a strand and brought it to his lips to graze it gently. The smaller nation followed the path that strand took and pressed another kiss against Ivan's mouth. He crawled on top, legs straddling him on either side of his waist, and kissed him again, and again.

"Don't think we're stopping there." He whispered against his lips, "you still have a lot to make up for."

xXx

China would never admit it to anyone, but it wasn't _Russia_ who initiated cuddling. As embarrassing as it was, Yao had been the one who breached _that_ barrier. Neither of them ever said anything about it either, as if speaking about their affectionate sides would ruin the mood. The elder nation always found himself moving so that he could rest his head against the taller man's chest, one arm reaching across to find Ivan's opposite hand. He'd find it interesting to watch their hands intertwine, at first looking like he was studying the broad hand he had captured in his own, and then finally lacing the digits together to rest on his personal pillow's stomach. They would fall asleep like that, with amber eyes fluttering shut, always amazed at how small his hand looked compared to the one that enveloped it.

Today wasn't any different. The blonde lifted his arm once he had caught his breath, and the dark-haired man slipped under it, worming his way until he was half lying on his lover. Russia felt a graceful hand sliding across his chest seeking out his arm and fingertips following the length down. Once he reached his palm, the other would lift the muscled appendage and let him do as he intended.

They lay there like that for quite a few minutes, the Russian drifting into a warm haze. He moved his arm that normally wrapped around the lithe Chinese shoulders and began idly playing with the silken black strands. He pulled his bangs from his face, and then ran his hands down through the poker straight hair. He hoped his fiancé would always keep his hair at this length; he loved the way it felt. He was pretty sure the older immortal had long-since caught on to his fixation either way. Sometimes pulling his hair-band out before his violet-eyed lover was even close enough to do it himself. He used to tease him with it all the time, pulling the tie and letting the dark-ink wisps slip out slowly during a meeting, before casually pulling all of his hair back from his nape and re-doing it. All the while his eyes would be fixed on Russia, as if daring him to lunge across the table and yank it back out.

"Ivan?" He felt the body on top of his shift slightly, and he wouldn't have heard the voice had he not felt the cheek against his collar move.

"Hmn?" He replied, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes as he realized the other man wanted to talk. He angled his head downwards and watched as the oriental nation began tracing small designs on his wrist with his thumb.

"We should probably wear red, aru." He suggested randomly, and Ivan couldn't decipher the tone as anything else but sleepy. He thought about the statement for a moment, and then realized what the other nation was talking about. Nodding to show he heard Russia delved back into his hazy mind as he remembered this conversation from a few years ago, during one of the nights when they had humored each other into talking about wedding traditions. Back then it had been a fleeting dream they had amused themselves with, knowing that it would cause a riot had they actually decided to go through with it.

"If we were planning to do this traditionally then I would have bought both rings." Murmured the larger man. It was more of an afterthought than a conviction.

"And our parents would have done everything for us- so you see the problem."

Ivan wrinkled up his nose, surprised to find that the pulse of pain was still evident even days after the incident in Canada. He had really been banking on a traditional one. Perhaps not with the gifts between families or the house-hold superstitions though. He really wanted to do this right; he was the representation of Russia, after all. What kind of nation would he be if he didn't do a wedding typical to his culture? Then again, China had been around for centuries, and his celebrations had changed just as vastly. If the Asian could give up most of his rituals, he supposed he could to.

"At least you don't have to pay a random." His fiancé reminded him, shifting his position so he could look up into his face. "And we do have some similar traditions." He paused, tilting his head to the side as a thought struck him. "I suppose we could just ignore all the 'home' rites and the ones that contradict each other." He sounded reluctant to admit it. Ivan could only assume that centuries of strict religion in China had something to do with it. For someone who had lived his whole life praying to gods, giving up something so important to him would be stressful.

"I suppose that seems fair." Still playing with his fiancé's hair, he looked up at the ceiling and tried to remember all the basic rites that he could. "So, that leaves the purification bath, a tea offering, and the glass breaking at the reception, signing the registry, and stealing..."

"Stealing...? Oh right, if one of us gets taken away we have to pay the 'captors'." He huffed, blowing the bangs out of his eyes as he thought about it. "I'm going to have to pay Francs, I can already see it aru."

The rumble of laughter was contagious, and Yao couldn't help but smile as he felt the violet-eyed man chuckle beneath him. They both knew once France figured out **that** tradition they'd be hiding from him all night. Neither of them was tired anymore, instead solely focused on planning the inevitable ceremony.

"The fact that we don't have parents cuts out at least four of the six etiquette." Admitted the Chinese man, his mouth pressing into a firm line when he realized how much of the traditions he wouldn't be able to participate in.

He was always pleasantly surprised to find how many entertaining traditions there were in Russia. He was not surprised _at all_ to hear about the shot of vodka at the reception. He could almost see that one being created by his soon-to-be husband. Yao was also still very set on including the offering to the gods, as well as the purification rituals. Russia supposed he could also let his smaller lover cover the food part. It was an obsession he didn't share, so he would be fighting over who planned it pointlessly. He knew he could trust China to incorporate his tastes into the feast as well. It wasn't like he minded traditional mandarin food either.

The conversation went until much later on in the evening. Neither realizing how late it had become until they had ironed out most of the problems two different religions could face at one wedding. The ceremony itself was going to be very simple and modern, much to both of their dislikes. They just couldn't incorporate everything they wanted, so in the end, it was before and after the actual wedding where they were able to add their traditions. Russia did not like the sound of being up at dawn on their first day married, and China was embarrassed to find they had to literally make out in front of everyone. Still, they promised to do it, because it was important to their partner.

Yao did get his way more though, but Ivan was pretty sure he'd end up making up for that later. It was very superstitious to not properly plan the date of the wedding. Russia wanted it to be as soon as possible, but the smaller nation refused. He needed to decipher the best day for both of them using their birthdays. The taller man decided it was probably better not to say anything about the fact that their birthdays weren't the same as the day of their creation.

Either way, much debate, bribing, and stubborn compromising later, it was four in the morning.

With one last thing to discuss.

"So Belarus and Korea will be sent invitations to the wrong wedding but right reception, da?"

"My thoughts exactly, aru."

XXX

Yes, I know, this is not my full capabilities as a writer. In fact I'm a little disappointed in this one; however I kinda like it as a fluffy story on its own. I go through phases of fantastic writing and then I go through phases where I want to write but it comes out not as sophisticated. Then again, this one started off light-hearted and the song I listened to that gave me the inspiration was also very hip-hop and happy. I guess with that in mind, I have to say it's not the worst I've ever written.

I know the ending was kind of rushed, and China should have been mad at him longer but I found that I wanted to wrap it up and it would just be another few pages of angst before he forgave him… The ending part there is rather random, but I did all this research on Chinese and Russian weddings so I wanted to put it somewhere…

I really enjoy this couple /third favorite in the hetalia fandom/ and every time I write them I find I put much more effort into making them three-dimensional and not just the simple characters they are on the episodes. I end up adding the 'Aru' and 'Da's at the end just before I'm done tweeking it.

PTSD and Panic Attacks. You can tell I know what they look like, eh?

If anyone would like to read the France and England one, if they like that couple, say so in your review. The RussiaxChina wedding is in there. I could even just put it on my livejournal and then link it in my reply.

/Crosses fingers and hopes that this was an ending worthy of all the reviews she received/

Thanks again! I hope the holidays are wonderful to you all and you continue to spoil me by reading my other stories.


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